


Musical Vampire Mysteries of Rory Flanagan

by jlbassmaster (Airwing)



Category: Glee, True Blood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-15 05:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 151,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airwing/pseuds/jlbassmaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rory Flanagan is a teen with the ability to read people's memories, and Sam Evans is a vampire that takes a special interest in him. Join them and their friends as they face romance, violence, death, magic, and lots of blood! Heavily inspired by the mythos of True Blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Season 1, Episode 1: I See You

**Author's Note:**

> _Author's Notes: This is some sort of whacked out crossover that popped into my head for no apparent reason other than the fact that two of my favorite currently running shows are Glee and True Blood. Even if you are not a True Blood fan, the story will stand on its own just fine, because I am using the Glee characters mixed with the True Blood mythology, and if you follow along, everything that is necessary to know will be explained._
> 
>  
> 
> _As a precaution, anyone that knows True Blood is familiar with the fact that it's kind of violent, graphically gory, and erotic, with an amazing plot underneath it all. That said, there will be some graphic descriptions of gore and violence and eroticism to keep in spirit with the show. Furthermore, this story is meant to be Sory centered, so if that bothers you, then you won't much care for this._
> 
>  
> 
> _Also note that, because of mixing these two series, characters are sometimes OOC, since in some cases I am blending a Glee character with a True Blood character. That's not an oversight on my part, it's intentional as part of the idea of this story. :)_
> 
>  
> 
>  _In reference to the title, the books that True Blood is based on are called The Southern Vampire Mysteries of Sookie Stackhouse. This title was created to nod to the source material and Glee as well. I give credit of the wonderful title to my beta boys._  
>  ****  
> Beta Credit: Ragnarok45, TVTime  
>  Consulting Credit: Ragnarok 45, AndyMixter, TVTime: These three have been a huge help in brainstorming for this story and of course proofing. Give them cookies. Big cookies, because the first draft sucked worse than anything I ever wrote, seriously.

**Season 1, Episode 1: I See You**

**Lima, Ohio: Summer, 2013**

The Lima Bean was one of the most popular hangouts for teenagers, particularly since Lima wasn't exactly brimming with excitement. In fact, it was downright boring, especially in the summer. Luckily, the teenagers' bar stayed open until nine. It was set up like a standard bar, complete with barstools lining a long bar-like counter. Booths bordered the walls of the dining area, with tables scattered about. Unlike a regular bar, however, the lights weren't dimmed down low, the music wasn't blaring, but rather subtle, and no alcohol was served in any capacity. Instead of booze, coffees, smoothies, and food were offered. Lima Bean was an all around nice place to hang out.

Tonight, a trio of teenagers were snickering amongst themselves as they watched a tall brown-haired boy struggling with a tray stacked with empty glasses, dishes, and used napkins. The boy was clearly clumsy, tripping over his own two feet and dropping one of the empty containers onto the teenagers' table.

"I'm sorry, let me clean that up for ye'," the waiter apologized in a thick Irish accent. "I can be a wee bit clumsy sometimes." He reached for the glass and put it back on his tray, leaning over with a clean, cloth napkin and wiping off the few drops of liquid that had spilled.

"Give me that," one of the boys demanded, grabbing for the rag. When he did, his hand made contact with the Irish teen's skin, causing the waiter to jerk his hand back as if in reflex. "Dude, what's your problem? I just needed to dry my hand off since you decided to drop a drink on me!"

"I'm sorry, really," the server repeated, leaving the napkin with them and hurrying off toward the kitchen. He could hear the boys laughing loudly and muttering insults amongst themselves behind him. His face was now a deep shade of pink and his shoulders slumped as the words 'Did you see what that asshole did to me?' rang in his ears, obviously intended for him to hear.

"You okay, Rory?" a voice asked. He tried not to look at its owner, a short black girl with a thick figure and pretty black hair. When he finally nodded, she offered him a comforting smile, even though she knew it wouldn't really help much. "Don't pay attention to those jerks. They'll be lucky if Kurt doesn't spit in their next café mocha," the girl said, poking her head from around the wall in front of the kitchen, scowling at the chuckling teens.

"Thanks, Mercedes, I can't help that I'm so clumsy," Rory replied, feigning a smile. She saw right though him, however, all too familiar with his constant attempts at covering up his hurt feelings.

"You look a little…," the girl began, observing the wrinkled brow of her co-worker and friend. "Did you touch one of them?" She emerged completely from the kitchen, toting a box of bottled water. She set it down on the bar top and turned to face him.

Rory nodded slowly. "By accident. It wasn't long, but just enough," he admitted. "It was gross."

Mercedes sneered. "What did you see, or dare I ask?"

"I'll just say that he likes lookin' at some really weird adult websites," he told her, a grin finally spreading across his face. "I guess it's kinda funny once I get past the grossness. Girls doing things with other girls while pouring some sort of brown mud all o'er each other."

Mercedes burst into laughter. "That  _is_  funny! What a freak. See, you got no reason to let them upset you. You can see all their dirty secrets with a touch. You have all the power in the world over them if you think about it."

The Irish teen smiled again. "Yeah, ye'r right. Ye'r confidence always makes me feel better. I'd still rather not 'ave to wait on their table though. Do ye' think Tina would mind?"

"Mind what?" came another, softer, female voice. Rory turned around to see Tina, the assistant manager of the evening shift. She had a wide smile across her face, her eyes as friendly looking as ever. Her long black hair was pulled into low, twin pigtails, giving her a childlike appearance.

"Those jerks are giving Rory a hard time. You mind finishing up with them?" Mercedes answered before the boy could speak up.

Tina gave a mischievous grin, accompanied by a glint in her eyes. "Of course. I'll take good care of them," the Asian woman said. "Their check?" Rory reached into one of the pockets of his waiter's apron and pulled out the ticket for the obnoxious teens. He slowly handed it to Tina, unsure of exactly what she had in mind.

"Oh lord, what's she gonna do now?" Rory whispered to Mercedes, the pair of them watching her with great interest. They couldn't hear what Tina was saying, but apparently whatever it was, the boys handed over some cash, got up, and left with little fanfare. Tina bid them a good evening with a triumphant grin and returned to her friends.

"What'd you do?" Mercedes asked quickly as Tina handed Rory the cash so he could ring it up in the register, and take out his tip that Tina had so obviously insisted they leave behind.

Tina grinned, her innocent-looking features shining with pride. "I simply reminded them that my parents are making a donation to the football team in the fall, and how I'd hate to have to ask them to reconsider." She giggled, pleased with herself.

"Girl, you are an unstoppable force of nature," the black woman complimented. She shook her head and headed back to the bar, picking the box of water back up and putting it away in the small refrigerator beneath the countertop. She then proceeded to wipe down the bar with a washrag as she continued to chuckle to herself.

"Thanks, Tina. I appreciate it. Ye' always watch out for me," Rory said. "Ye' should 'ave the tip. Ye' did the hard part." He started to dig into his pocket to check the extra cash but she stopped him by placing her hand gently on his wrist. She made sure to only let her fingertips brush his watchband, avoiding contact with his pale flesh.

"Don't be silly. You earned it; I just delivered the check," she said, smiling and walking off toward the office in the back, most likely to check on Mike, her boyfriend and evening manager of the Lima Bean.

-ooo-

A tall blonde man had come in shortly before the entire incident with the teenagers and the young waiter. He sat in the booth at the far corner where he would hardly be noticed, observing the brunette and his adversaries. He felt sympathy for him as he tripped and the teenagers laughed at him, then got rude with him. He noted, however, the strange reaction the boy seemed to have upon being touched. It was odd, the way he pulled back his hand like he had touched something hot.

The blonde man felt a twinge of happiness, however, when he watched the Asian woman. She had approached the boys, murmured a few choice words to them—always smiling—which put strained looks on their faces. Then she collected their money and shooed them out the door. There was something about the tall, brunette boy, though, that caught the blonde's attention. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something made him keep his eyes locked on the teen, watching as the waiter had a seemingly cheerful exchange with the Asian and the dark-skinned woman. Again, the man felt a twinge of satisfaction to see the boy smiling. Maybe the smile was what had drawn his attention. No, not just the smile: it was also the bright blue eyes that suddenly focused on him as the waiter noticed he had a patron that needed tending to.

-ooo-

"Hey, Rory," Mercedes called. "You got a customer." She nodded her head toward the gentleman in the booth at the back of the dining room. Rory turned to look at him, noticing that the man was staring right at him.

"The way he's staring at you, you'd think he was trying to memorize you or something," Kurt, the barista, said as he sidled up to the young waiter, seemingly appearing out of nowhere as he often did. Kurt had a habit of curiously sneaking up on people, even though he didn't mean to. He was just quiet until he made an official appearance. The brunette, flamboyant barista shared some similar features with Rory, and they were both openly gay, leading people to confuse them at times – something Rory wasn't particularly happy about, simply because he felt Kurt's over-the-top style was tacky, not that the shy, polite Irish waiter would ever voice his opinion out loud or that it made him think any less of Kurt as a person.

"Maybe he just thinks you're hot," Kurt added with a sly grin. Ever since Rory confided his sexuality in him, Kurt had been trying to set the teen up with every guy who so much as looked at him, but Rory continually brushed Kurt's efforts away. He wasn't stuck up, rather he was afraid of what he might see if he touched would-be suitors.

"Oh stop, ye' always think e'eryone is lookin' at me like that. Ye' know better," Rory scolded. "I better go help him before he gets impatient." Trying not to pay attention to the fact he was being stared at, Rory walked with the little confidence he had over to the blonde man's table, pulling his notepad and pen out of his pocket as he walked.

Kurt skittered over to the bar instantly, whispering to Mercedes. "I sure hope he  _does_  think that boy is hot. Rory needs a date, and that blondie is quite a looker." Mercedes chuckled lightly.

"You're determined to couple that boy up with someone before the end of the summer," the woman said. "I guess it wouldn't hurt if we just, you know, stood here and pretended not to pay attention, right?"

"Now you're speaking my language," Kurt said, the pair of them casually watching how their friend interacted with the blonde man.

-ooo-

"Hello, welcome to the Lima Bean," Rory said cheerily, giving his new customer an inviting smile. The stranger looked back at him with a grin that was slightly eerie, but at the same time slightly… easing. "Sorry sir, for ye'r wait. Can I get ye' anything?"

The blonde man simply stared up at Rory's big blue eyes. It's quite alright.I wasn't waiting long at all. Besides, I saw you had some… rowdy patrons to finish up with," he said soothingly, referring to the teenagers that had been giving Rory a hard time. "You and your friend handled them quite well."

Rory gulped, unable to do anything but stare back at the stranger, his eyes locking onto the emerald shine from the other man's own eyes. "Ah, yes, they were a wee bit rowdy, but now they're gone. But, uh, what can I get for ye'?" The stranger tilted his head slightly and glanced down at the table before returning his gaze upward.

"Do you have any Tru Blood?" the blonde asked nonchalantly, a pleasant smile still set on his thick lips. He was always a little nervous about sharing his status as a vampire for fear of how he might be treated.

At the mention of the drink's name, Rory felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. He tried not to draw attention to his throat as he swallowed nervously. He could feel his hands starting to tremble a little bit as well, sweat forming on his forehead.

"Oh, oh yes, I think we' 'ave some in the back. I'm not sure what Mike ordered. It might not even be any good, but I can check for ye'," Rory managed to get out in a hurried ramble.

"Whatever you have is fine, but O negative if there is any," the blonde said. Rory wanted to move, wanted to walk away, but something about the stranger was keeping him in his spot. "Wait, am I right in thinking that maybe you haven't met one of us before? A vampire, I mean," he asked before Rory had any more time to think.

Rory slowly shook his head before finding his voice. "No, no sir, I 'aven't. I, ah, I don't think any of us 'ave. Ye'r the first one to come here that I know of. I guess maybe we aren't that popular," he replied, trying to add some humor at the end, more to calm himself than anything else.

"Well, Rory, you don't have to feel uncomfortable around me. I'm not here to bother anyone. I only came for a drink, and people watching," the man said, softening his eyes.

"H-how did ye' know me name?" Rory blurted out, unnerved.

The vampire chuckled lightly. "It's on your nametag." He nodded at Rory's chest, the boy suddenly blushing at his own foolishness.

"Oh yes, o' course. I'll uh, go get that Tru Blood for ye' now, sir," the teen said, finally finding his confidence to skitter off toward the kitchen, his face still a light shade of pink.

-ooo-

Mercedes followed Rory into the kitchen and to the storage room that housed their unused beverages and other items that needn't be frozen. "So… the way he was smiling at you… did he talk like he was interested in you?" she asked excitedly.

The Irish teen shrugged as he was sorting through the shelves on the wall. "I dunno. I'm not very good at readin' that kind o'thing." Mercedes frowned. Rory had always been a little daft when it came to flirtation. "Where's the Tru Blood's at? he asked, agitated.

Mercedes' face dropped instantly. "The  _what!?_ " Her voice had become gravelly—almost harsh.

"Tru Blood. I cant find them, but I know Mike ordered some a while back," the teen replied, oblivious to Mercedes' sudden concern. "Aha!" he finally exclaimed, reaching far into the back behind several six packs of soda. There were only four, all of them AB positive, but the vampire had assured him whatever he found would be fine.

"He ordered Tru Blood? He's a  _vampire_?" the girl questioned, ignoring her friend's excitement at finding his prize. "Rory, you better be really careful, you know what they can do to people," she cautioned. The boy made a noncommittal mumble as he looked at the nutrition information on the bottle out of curiosity. She yanked the bottle from his hand to get his attention. "I'm serious! They can do that little mind trick. Don't look him in the eyes, no matter what, you got me?"

The boy snatched the bottle back from her. "I'll be fine, Mercedes. Don't worry. He said he just came here for a drink, so I don't think he wants any trouble." With a curt nod of his head he walked out of the storage room, through the kitchen and paused at the bar to put the bottle on a tray, along with a glass of ice. As he walked back toward the table, Kurt rushed up next to the scowling woman.

"Did he just walk out of there with a –" he began.

"Tru Blood. Yep. The dude is a vampire," Mercedes stated grimly. "Don't let Rory out of your sight. I warned him not to look at the guy's eyes, but you know Rory. Overly friendly to a fault."

"Naïve, too. I mean really, a glass of ice? With blood? That boy really is adorably clueless sometimes," Kurt added. Mercedes stifled a chuckle, maintaining her serious demeanor.

-ooo-

"I'm so sorry for the delay, sir. They were hidden in the back o' the storage closet," Rory stated apologetically as he set the beverage down in front of the vampire, putting the glass down next to it with a nervous smile. "Is there anythin' else I can get for ye'?"

The vampire began to giggle like a child, biting his bottom lip in an attempt to silence himself. Rory frowned, unsure what was so amusing. "Is… is something wrong, sir?"

Regaining his composure, the vampire looked up at the boy with his innocent blue eyes, genuine concern set in them. "Blood is generally served at ninety-eight point six degrees. The temperature of the human body," he explained, smiling.

Again, Rory's face turned a deep crimson. "Oh me God! I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, reaching for the bottle. "I didn't think—I ne'er served one before! I'll be right back, I –"

The blonde man placed his hand on Rory's, stopping him from taking the bottle. His skin was cool, sending a shiver down the teen's spine. "Don't worry about it, Rory. It's an honest mistake. It's actually quite funny."

Normally, if someone touched Rory when he wasn't expecting it, he would end up 'seeing' something he didn't want to, like with the teenager earlier, but when this stranger's fingers brushed over the back of his hand... nothing happened. Thinking that perhaps he'd managed to subconsciously block the effect, Rory let his curiosity overtake him for a moment as he purposely tried to 'look' inside the vampire; still, he got nothing but an unending, blank,  _quiet_  void. It was like when he touched someone with his mental block up, but this time without needing the conscious barrier. It was… a relief.

Noticing the look of confusion on the boy's face, the man released his grip. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cross a boundary. I shouldn't have put my hand on you," he said, wondering if he had offended the young man. He watched as the look on Rory's face shifted from one of confusion, to one of happiness.

"No, it's okay," Rory said lightly. He couldn't help but let his face wander toward the stranger, allowing his gaze to be captured in the alluring green eyes. Realizing what he was doing, the boy quickly looked away.

"Don't be afraid to look at me. I'm not going to glamour you. I don't want your attention that way." The blonde man's voice was as captivating as his eyes. Rory finally lifted his gaze to glance at the other man, goofy grins spreading across both of their faces. "I'm sorry, I've been rude. My name is Sam," the vampire said.

"Nice t'meet ye', Sam," the young man replied. "I'm… oh, right, ye' already know." Again he flushed crimson, grasping for something else to say, something that didn't sound stupid, but all he managed was an offer. "Do ye' want me t'warm up that Tru Blood for ye'?"

Sam nodded. "Please. Three and a half minutes in the microwave usually works for me. Be careful. The bottle will be hot. I don't want you to burn your hands." He smiled, handing the drink over to the waiter. "Burns make your hands calloused, and from what I can tell, yours are still smooth. Mine are a bit rough from playing guitar. I can tell you about that when you get back, if you want."

"Sure, I'll be right back," Rory said quickly, sending a heart-stopping smile the vampire's way before turning and scuttling away toward the kitchen again, almost tripping over his own two feet. Sam watched him, a pleased look on his face. He noticed that the more flustered the boy seemed to get, the clumsier he became. It was endearing and reminded him of his much younger brother from his human life.

-ooo-

Mercedes wasted no time in scolding her friend. "I saw you looking at him. I told you not to," she said harshly. He walked right past her and toward the back counter where he placed the bottle in the microwave and set the timer. "Did you hear me? He's probably hypnotized you by now!"

Rory shook his head. "No. I don't think he did. He may not be able to. I mean, I wasn't able to, ye' know, 'see' him the way I usually can with other people. I tried. If my… whatever it is… won't work on him, maybe his glamouring won't work on me." He turned to face his friends, Kurt having just stepped up to join them.

"What do you mean you couldn't 'see' him? I thought that happened with everybody you touched if you didn't concentrate," Kurt inquired, the look on his face grave.

"When he grabbed me hand, I… at first I didn't get any images in me head, so I thought maybe I blocked without realizing it, but then I actually tried to 'see' him, and… nothing," Rory explained. He glanced at his friends, both of them confused. "It was like looking at empty space. It was kind o'nice."

"Nice? What do you mean  _nice_?" Mercedes demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Vampires aren't something you should be feeling  _nice_  about. They're dangerous, and… and crazy!"

"Because, Mercedes, most o'the time when someone touches me, I 'ave to control meself to keep from sensing their memories, especially if they catch me off-guard like that. But it didn't happen this time. For a moment, I actually felt… normal," the Irish teen went on, his eyes softening into sadness.

Kurt wrinkled his face in a harsh scowl. "You  _are_  normal. Don't talk like you aren't. You just have an extra gift." Before the argument could go on, the bell on the microwave went off. Rory turned around, and recalling Sam's warning, used a nearby napkin to handle the hot container. Even through the thick napkins he could feel the heat of the glass.

"We can talk about this later. I 'ave a customer to serve," Rory announced, annoyed at their lack of faith in his judgment of character. He walked purposefully toward the dining room, bottle in hand.

"We  _have_  to keep an eye on him. I can tell, he's crushing on him and I don't even need a special gift to see that," Mercedes said quietly, her eyes filled with concern. Kurt nodded in agreement, tending to his next order, but not letting his gaze fall anywhere but on his endangered friend.

-ooo-

"Thank you, Rory," Sam said taking the bottle in his hand and bringing it to his lips to sip it. "Perfect."

The teen showed his goofy smile again "I'm sorry for the mix up again. Next time I'll make sure to give ye' a warm one. I mean, if ye' even want t'come back." He looked down at the table, almost as if shamed by his error.

"I definitely want to come back. The service here is perfect," Sam said with a genuine nod of satisfaction. Noticing the blush across the boy's cheeks, he went on to ask a question. "Are you working tomorrow?"

Rory nodded his head. "Yes. Until nine."

"Then I'll be back tomorrow. I'll be sure to sit at your table," Sam assured him.

"O-okay," the teen stammered, still nervous about meeting his first vampire on top of his inability to use his gift on him. It was a lot to take in at one time. "I 'ave to tend to me other customers, but let me know if there's anything else I can get ye'."

Sam waved his hand casually. "Just the check. I need to be going. I have an errand to run, unfortunately."

Rory looked at him with curiosity, wondering what kind of errand a vampire could have. Pushing his thoughts aside, he stated Sam's 'check'. "It's on the house. For me mistake," he replied. "I hope you 'ave a nice night, Sam." He gave a polite grin that turned out to be a little more friendly than he'd intended.

"Thank you, Rory. For the drink, and for the pleasant conversation," Sam replied with a soft smile of his own. Unsure what to do next, Rory turned and walked away. He immediately began praying he didn't stumble as he left Sam to finish his drink. Not five minutes later, after he'd turned around from helping another customer, Sam was gone. When Rory went to clear the table of the now-melted cup of ice and empty bottle, there was a slip of paper sitting atop a twenty-dollar bill.

_Thank you for the wonderful service, Rory. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow evening._

The sloppily written words made him feel jittery inside, the same way most people felt when asked out on a date. He knew that wasn't what the paper meant; it was merely a compliment, but it was so genuine, and the tip so generous, he couldn't help but think about Sam the rest of the evening. He was amused that this, most likely, ancient being had such chicken-scratch for handwriting, but that thought was replaced as he wondered why he couldn't 'see' him. It was just so wonderful to touch someone and not absorb memories he didn't care to see without having to concentrate. It was so amazing to feel  _normal,_ even if only for just a few moments.

-ooo-

"He left me a twenty," Rory stated with a smirk as he waltzed past Mercedes and Kurt, toward the kitchen.

"Probably because he wants to drain you," Mercedes called after him harshly. She turned toward Kurt, lowering her voice to a whisper. "He's gonna glamour that boy, and then bite him, drink him dry, turn him into a vampire, and next thing you know, we got an Irish vampire on our asses."

Kurt suppressed a chuckle and rolled his eyes at her dramatics. "I don't think it's quite  _that_  serious. I mean, about him turning into one. He'll probably get bitten, but I don't want to see that poor clueless kid drained like a tank of water."

The full-figured woman put her hands on her hips, scowling. "Quit being a smartass. This is serious and you're just trying to cover it up with ill-timed humor," she scolded.

He sighed, shaking his head. "I really don't want anything to happen to him. I wish that  _thing_  never came in here. Now we have to protect Rory until he stops being infatuated with him." He nodded at Tina, who was across the room, her purse on her shoulder as she left for the evening.

Mercedes' face softened, knowing full well that Kurt was just as worried as she was. "You know, I wonder what Mike would think about this."

"Think about what?" came a deep masculine voice approaching them from behind. Mike Chang, a tall, lean Asian man barely older than Mercedes and Kurt leaned over the countertop, raising an eyebrow at them.

"Yes, think about what?" Rory added as he came out of the kitchen, a suspicious glare pasted on his face.

Kurt stayed silent as Mercedes took charge of the explanation. "About that vampire that was up in here, eyeing you like his next meal!"

Mike perked up, standing straight. "We had a vampire in here? A  _real_  one? After all this time?" His question was a general query but his attention was focused right on the young Irish lad.

Rory slowly nodded his head. "Yes, we had a  _real_  vampire here. He was nice and polite, and he left me a big tip. I uh… comped his drink though, because I messed up when I served it to him cold. I didn't know ye'r supposed to heat it up first. I was embarrassed so I didn't charge him." He lowered his eyes, knowing that Mike's father disliked excessive freebies. "I'll pay for it if ye' want," he offered.

Mike, normally a laid-back manager, spoke with the most serious tone any of them had ever heard. "I'm not worried about the drink. I don't care how nice, or how proper he was, or even how big of a tip he left you. You watch yourself around him, you hear me?" he said, standing very close to Rory, his jaw set firm. "Vampires are dangerous, and can't be trusted. I don't want to see you get hurt. I'm telling you this, not as your manager, but as your friend."

The Irish teen sighed and slumped his shoulders. "I'll be fine. I'm clumsy, not stupid. Now if ye' would all let me alone, I 'ave tables to wipe down and inventory to log so I can go home." He was obviously annoyed by their bigotry, especially from a trio of minorities themselves, but he tried to keep in mind that they were only looking out for him. They just didn't understand, however, that the vampire—Sam—meant no ill will to anyone. He could feel it in his very being.

-ooo-

The very next evening, Sam was sitting in the exact same seat as the night before, waiting patiently for his favored waiter. He smiled brightly as the young man approached the table, a smile across his own lips. "It's nice to see you again, Rory," he said softly, speaking before the boy had time to greet him.

"Hi! Nice to see ye', too." Rory's eyes were shining with excitement upon speaking to his new vampire associate. "Thank ye' so much for the tip last night. It was far too generous, especially since I messed up ye'r order." He lowered his eyes bashfully.

Sam waved his hand dismissively. "You didn't mess it up. How were you supposed to know to heat it up when I'm the first of my kind to come here? Do you realize how badly people like myself get treated in public places?" he asked. "You were respectful, attentive, and quite pleasant to talk to. I value that."

The Irish teen's face flushed, unsure of how to respond to that. "I… uh… thank ye'. I just think people deserve to be treated nice until they start acting mean." He knew it sounded cliché and a little bit lame, but it was true—he very much liked to be nice to everyone and make friends whenever he could. "So uh, what can I get for ye'?" he asked, not thinking about the fact that it was a silly question given that vampires only consume one thing.

The vampire smiled, finding the boy's awkwardness endearing. "I'll take a Tru Blood, whatever you have in the back. Heated, please," he added with a sly grin.

"I'll have it ready for ye' in just a few minutes." Rory quickly marked the order down on his notepad and shuffled off to the kitchen, stumbling over his shoelace. Sam couldn't help but let his eyes lock onto the boy's firm looking rear, his black jeans accentuating his curves in just the right places. Rory looked so innocent with his big, shining, ocean-blue eyes, his pale skin, perfectly parted hair, and the subtle scent of his cologne when he stood near. Altogether it was an intoxicating combination no matter how pure the teen appeared.

A few minutes later, Rory returned with a tray, a Tru Blood sitting in the middle of it. His two co-workers were staring the pair down, the dark-skinned woman looking particularly fierce. Sam gave the two people a friendly smile, trying to put them at ease. It didn't seem to work, as neither of them changed their expressions.

"Your friends seem…" Sam trailed off, searching for the right word to describe their less than pleased demeanors. "…attentive."

"I'm sorry. They've ne'er met a vampire before either, and they're kind o' nervous. They believe too much o' what they see in the news." Rory was disappointed that his friends were being so obvious about their disdain. "I told them ye' were a nice man, but they're still skeptical. I'm sorry if they make ye' feel unwelcome," he apologized, taking a moment to look back at them with a scowl. "Chill out!" he mouthed to them.

Trying to ignore the harsh glares, Sam accepted the Tru Blood that Rory handed him, nice and warm as he liked it. He sipped it for a moment, and then licked the red liquid from his lips. "It's good they care about you so much. Genuine friends can be hard to find." His voice was laced with sadness.

"Don't ye' 'ave any vampire friends?" the teen inquired, cocking his head. The look on Sam's face made him want to lean over and hug the man, offering comfort, but that was obviously not appropriate.

Sam chuckled lightly. "No, not really. I guess I can be a little bit of a loner. I only like genuine friends, and like I said, those are hard to find." He paused for a moment, letting the sentiment sink in. "Maybe you'd like to be friends, Rory. I could show you vampire culture, and you can show me modern human culture. I  _have_  been out of the loop for a while, so to speak. Maybe if your friends see that I'm really not someone to be feared, they'll open up to the idea of being friends with a vampire."

Rory was surprised by the suggestion. "Ye' want to be friends with me?"

"Why not? You're very nice, obviously not bigoted. I promise you, I won't hurt you. I just want someone to spend some time with, 'hang out' as they say. Will you give me a chance?" the blonde vampire asked, a pleading look in his eyes.

Rory could tell just by looking at him that he was being honest—that Sam really did just want a friend and didn't mean any harm. Kurt and Mercedes would think he was bonkers, trusting Sam solely on his word, but he had done just the very same with them—accepting them right away and now they were very good friends. There was no reason it couldn't be the same with a vampire.

"I think it'd be great to be your friend. I know what it's like, not 'aving any friends. I 'ave plenty now, but at first I was on me own," the brunette said, giving Sam a comforting smile.

"Thank you, for giving me a chance," Sam said, reaching out and lightly taking Rory's hand. "You're a kind person. When's your next night off?"

Rory thought a moment, recalling the work schedule. "Oh yeah, Friday, actually. It's me weekend off for once," he answered happily.

"Well, may I take you out to dinner Friday evening, so we can chat and get to know each other better? Platonically, of course," Sam invited with a goofy grin. "Friends should know things about each other, after all."

The young teen smiled yet again. "That'd be great, I'd love to. It's been a while since I've been out anyway."

"Great. Write down your phone number and address and I can pick you up," Sam instructed. While anyone else would have called Rory insane for divulging such personal information to a stranger, he felt perfectly comfortable with the request. Perhaps it was Sam's easy smile, or maybe it was his alluring eyes, but either way Rory felt like he could trust him and scribbled the information on his notepad and tore out the page, handing it to the blonde. When Rory flipped his pad closed, his pen jumped out of his fingers and onto the table.

"I'll pick you up at eight-thirty then," Sam declared, his goofy grin reappearing as he plucked the pen from the tabletop and handed it to the teen. He could still see the other two people glaring threateningly at him—a silent warning not to bring harm to their friend. He hoped they wouldn't convince the boy to cancel on him. Rory had been the most welcoming person he had come across since coming to Ohio, and losing the opportunity to foster a friendship with him would seriously hurt. Even after one hundred years, Sam was still vulnerable to his emotions, something many vampires had come to neglect.

"You gave him your phone number? And address? Are you  _stupid_?" Mercedes demanded upon discovering Rory's plans for Friday night.

The teen looked hurt by her comment, but again he tried to remember she was only trying to look out for him. "No, I'm not stupid. He's a nice man, and he needs a friend. Nobody else will give him a chance and I don't see why I shouldn't. I gave both of ye' a chance and look how close we are now."

Kurt frowned. "You really are clueless, Rory. He's probably glamouring you so he can get you alone and drain you dry." With Kurt on one side of him, and Mercedes on the other, Rory was starting to feel ganged up on.

"Me mind is made up. I'm going to 'ave dinner with him Friday night, and that's that. It's just dinner, and I'm a good judge of character," the Irishman insisted sternly, looking from Kurt to Mercedes and back.

"You're too trusting is what you are. At least send us a text message so we know you're safe with him," Kurt replied with a huff, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I don't like this one bit, Rory Flanagan, but you're gonna do it, so at least be smart about it. Wear a silver chain or something around your neck, and maybe even a silver watch or something. Just have some silver on you. Just in case," Mercedes pleaded. Unlike Kurt, she knew fussing at him was only going to do but so much good.

"I'll be safe. I promise. E'erything will be just fine, and nothing bad will happen, and then ye'll see he's just a nice man who needs a friend, just like I said." He didn't like lying, so he didn't commit to keeping silver on his person, just that he'd be safe, and that could mean anything.

Rory turned to walk away, leaving his two friends alone to pout and scowl all they wanted, but nothing they said or did was going to change his mind.

-ooo-

"Are you sure you don't want a ride?" Mike asked as he turned the lock on the door to the Lima Bean. Rory had stayed late to help him close up shop since Tina had the night off and he was always looking to make a little extra cash.

"I promise, I'm fine. Brittany should be here anytime now," Rory assured him. Mike didn't look convinced in the least, pursing his lips in a look of skepticism. "I sent her a text message. She's on her way," he added confidently.

Mike sighed. Rory was stubborn, hating to inconvenience anyone. "I really don't like you staying out here all by yourself at night. I'd stay with you, but… my dad is kind of insistent I be home by nine thirty. Kinda sad, huh? Eighteen and still under his thumb," he said, rolling his eyes at himself. "You'd think the fact that I'm manager of the business he owns, he'd cut me some slack. Anyway, look, if Brittany isn't here in fifteen minutes, call me and I'll come get you. Dad will just have to get over it."

The Irish teen shook his head and smiled. "I'll be fine. Go home, Mike," he insisted, giving him a confident grin. Being not only from another country, but also the youngest on the staff and in the group of friends, everyone was constantly worrying about him, as if he needed coddling or was fragile. He had said it many times over; he was clumsy, not stupid.

Mike shrugged. "Alright. Fifteen minutes though, no more," he ordered sternly. Rory gave him a nod while Mike walked to his car, got inside, and gave Rory a quick wave as he started up. Rory gave him a thumbs up with both hands as the elder teen pulled out of the parking lot.

-ooo-

Fifteen minutes had passed and Brittany had neither arrived, nor was answering her phone via text or call. She could be an airhead sometimes, but she usually didn't ignore a phone call. Unless… unless she was occupied with a date.

_I really don't wanna call Mike. He'll get in trouble and he won't say he's mad, but he'll be annoyed,_  Rory thought. Feeling embarrassed that he had assured his manager so confidently, but instead was without a ride, he scrolled back through his text messages to make completely sure Brittany was on her way.

A muffled noise broke his concentration. It sounded like it came from behind the building—an area that only had the faintest of light right above the back door, near the garbage cans. It wasn't exactly a place he wanted to go, especially if there was something going on back there, but… he heard the sound a second time, and this time it sounded like an animal or maybe a very young person.

The noise came a third time, and it was then that Rory decided whatever it was, it sounded like it was in distress.  _What if it's an animal, and it's hurt? Or a little kid? I have to make sure, they might need help._

Letting his kind nature take hold of him, he crept to the back of the building, peering cautiously around the corner. As he expected, there was an animal, and it was hurt, because three teenagers—the same three teenagers that had been in the Lima Bean a couple of nights before—were kicking at it. As he came from around the corner he could see it was a dog, but it wasn't barking. It was only whimpering, favoring its paw as it backed away from the teasing boys.

"Hey! Hey!" Rory shouted as he stepped into full view of the teens. Luckily the lack of light hid his uneasy stance. "Stop that! Right now!" He approached the boys, forgetting that he was alone, and there were three of them. One of them was his height, about six feet. The other two were a little shorter, one of them rotund.

"What are you gonna do to stop us if we don't, huh?" the tallest one smirked, pushing the dog backward with the tip of his shoe. "There's three of us, and one of you. Your best bet is to just turn around and walk away."

"No," Rory said confidently. "What did that dog do to ye'? Ye' 'ave no right to hurt him!" He stepped closer to them, hoping that his height would intimidate at least the smaller two. His heart was pounding, but he knew he needed to keep a fierce resolve.

"That dog bit me, that's what he did!" the skinny, short boy declared, glaring at the dog. "I was only trying to pet it."

The portly boy snickered. "Oh whatever, John. You smacked the little fucker. You deserved to get bit," he said. The other boy, John, glared at him and hissed a warning to shut up.

The tall boy started to laugh as his two cronies bickered back and forth. "Shut up, guys. We got this little… problem to deal with." He turned his gaze to Rory, giving him a snarky grin. "So, back to my original question. What are you gonna do to stop us? You don't have that hottie waitress to help you out this time."

Scared, but knowing that he had no choice but to stand firm, Rory put on his most fearsome face. "Leave the dog alone,  _now_ ," he ordered harshly, boring his eyes into the tallest boy's smirking face. "Don't make me kick ye'r arse." He knew the threat was lame. Three boys against just him, a person who had not a bone of violence in his body, he was as good as dead, but what else could he say that would even begin to sound intimidating? If they attacked him, the worst he could do to them was fall over and accidentally push one of them into the trash bin.

The tall boy scoffed, his friends suddenly agitated. "Come on, Eric, let's just get the fuck out of here before that faggot calls the cops or some shit," the fat boy urged. "I'm sick of this bullshit."

Eric ignored him and started closing in on his new opponent. Before Rory could react, Eric grabbed him by the shirt collar and shoved him up against one of the large garbage cans. "He ain't callin' nobody. I'm gonna give him a nice fat lip to shut that yap of his. Might even fix that speech problem he's got." True to his word, he pulled his fist back, and seeing only a blur, Rory felt pain exploding in his jaw. Twice. Three times. He could taste blood in his mouth.

Dizzied by the attack on his face, Rory didn't realize at first that his feet were kicked out from under him, sending him sprawling to the ground. He felt pain in his breastbone as his full weight crashed down on his chest when he hit the pavement. Blood dripped out of his mouth, coming from his bleeding lips. He spat on the ground, afraid teeth were going to come flying out as well.

"You fuckers gonna help me out or what?" Eric bellowed to his cohorts. John seemed to have no problem with the idea of beating a younger teenager, but the fat boy was apprehensive, backing up slightly. "Don't be a pussy, Bill! Billy boy!" Eric teased, trying to discourage his friend from chickening out.

More pain exploded in Rory's body as he felt shoes slamming into his side, pushing him back against the trash bin. He was being kicked relentlessly, most likely by two pairs of feet, but the pain was agonizing and his brain couldn't think. All he could feel was pain.

There was a ringing in his head, and he felt something wet leaking down the sides of his face, not just from his eyes, but from his ears as well. His head exploded again as it slammed against the metal bin, and he could hear the faint crack of his nose breaking, followed by another kick to the chest, another loud cracking sound – one of his ribs giving way, probably. He was in so much agony, his breath feeling so short and strained, he just knew that he was dying. There was no way he would survive—he had lost too much blood, he was certain of it. No way that amount of pain and injury couldn't be accompanied by massive blood loss.

Something suddenly happened. Everything stopped. He felt no more kicking. Heard no more shouting.  _I must have died. It's all over_ , he thought. His eyes were swollen, and he could barely see, but he could make out something in front of him. Streaks. Blurry images. What looked like people flying and then falling. The only sound he heard was a sudden screaming, and then silence. More streaks, and then he cried out in pain as something touched him.

Despite the misery, the sensation he felt was almost pleasant. He hadn't expected it in the least. It felt like… flesh. Smooth, tender flesh. Cool flesh. If he could shiver, he would have, or maybe he did, either way his body didn't register anything but the touch. More pain suddenly shot through his body as he was being moved. Whoever was touching him was turning him, pushing him onto his back, something propping his head up. He coughed, blood coming up and drooling down his chin.

"Rory… don't worry, you're safe now," came a familiar and soothing voice. A face was hovering over him, one that was blurry through swollen eyes and tears, but he could see what looked like light-colored hair. Blonde hair. Something else stood out, something slightly darker than the rest of the pale face. Something that made him think of lips. Full lips. Then he saw green. Two bright green orbs above him, vivid and calming. He knew who it was by those eyes.

"Sam?" the wounded teen croaked out. "Am I… Am I gonna… I… I don't wanna die… But I think I am." He shut his eyes, the brightness above him had started to give him a headache. It was the light above the back door. "Sam, please don't let me die."

Sam was surprisingly calm considering he was holding his new friend in his arms, badly beaten to death. He brushed the hair from Rory's forehead, a gesture that he felt necessary because he had seen similar in so many films over the years.

"You're not gonna die. I promise you that," Sam assured him in the same soothing tone he had used when he first spoke to the teen. "I can heal you." He took his hand from Rory's forehead and brought his wrist to his mouth. Sam made a faint grunt as drops of blood began to trickle down onto the boy's swollen lips.

"Wh-what are ye' doing?" the teen asked, taking great pains to speak. He could taste the coppery flavor of something unfamiliar. It was different from the taste of his own blood. It was almost sweet underneath the metallic tang.

" _Drink,"_  Sam ordered in a firmer tone. "My blood, it can heal you.  _Drink_. Now," he urged, putting his bleeding wrist to the boy's lips. He could feel Rory's body beginning to quiver, beginning to lose heat.

"I don't wanna be a vampire…" Rory declared.

"You won't be, I swear. Stop wasting time.  _Drink_." Sam ordered again. Before the teen could protest again, Sam pressed his wrist firmly against Rory's mouth. He could feel the boy's lips part ever so slightly, and then open as far as he could manage given the circumstances. He could feel himself start to weaken just a bit as his blood began to flow into the hungry mouth. The more the liquid flowed, the more urgently the boy pulled the force of life into his throat.

"There, good, keep drinking," Sam cooed softly. Rory lifted one of his arms and wrapped his hand loosely around Sam's forearm, forcing the source of his sustenance to stay locked against him as he feverishly drank.

The blonde grimaced as he felt the draining from his wrist. He pulled away from the desperate mouth, his strength easily overtaking Rory's weak attempt at keeping him close. "Okay, that's enough," he said firmly. He flexed his arm and the self-inflicted wound quickly closed up, the only evidence a patch of red where Rory had suckled. He gazed down at the teen, the color beginning to return to his eyes, the swelling starting to lessen. The open wounds from the attack sealed up, a very strange sensation. Rory felt like he was being stitched up like a rag doll, except it didn't hurt. In fact, the pain that was overtaking him only moment earlier was receding. It was subsiding so quickly it began to disappear altogether.

"There we are," Sam said with a smile. He watched patiently as the final effects of the blood healed his friend. "How do you feel?"

The brunette brought his hands to his chest. "Me chest. Me ribs, they feel okay. E'erything feels okay. Me face doesn't hurt. I can see clear again. Me headache is gone. I feel… great…" He licked his lips, tasting the last drops of blood.

"Then let's sit you up. Lean up against the trashcan a minute, get yourself together. I'm going to take a moment and heal this poor animal," Sam instructed, helping the boy into a sitting position.

Despite feeling so good, the world still seemed out of sorts, sensations of not understanding what was going on filling his head. He closed his eyes a moment, breathing deeply, trying to relax.

Meanwhile, Sam slowly ambled toward the ailing pup that had backed itself up into a corner between the metal bin and the back door. Sam could feel his body weakening from the significant amount of blood he had given up. It was giving him a headache but he remained stoic. The last thing he wanted to do was alarm his young friend.

Sam bit his wrist once more, and then crouched down in front of the animal, offering up his sustenance. The dog was obviously skeptical, staring at his would-be healer. With a little more urging from the vampire, it began to lap at the bloody wrist, drinking down the offering.

Rory wasn't sure how long he waited, but he opened his eyes when he felt something slimy and wet at his hand. The dog. It was happily licking Rory's hand, nudging him with its nose. Rory smiled as he petted the creature, relieved to see that he, too, was safe and sound again.

"I think I might keep him. He might be a good companion, don't you think?" Sam asked cheerfully. It wasn't normal for vampires to keep pets, but this one was special. This one had its life saved by a boy who risked his own safety to protect it. It deserved a good home. "A fantasy I suppose. He needs a family who can walk him in the sunlight." He reached over and scratched the dog behind the ears, the creature making a noise of satisfaction. "He probably belongs to someone anyway. Keep an eye on him though, in case he does need a home."

"What did ye' do t'me? To the dog?" the teen asked, the animal settling into his lap." We were both about to die, but now we're fine."

Sam grinned. "I healed you with my blood. Vampire blood is extremely powerful to humans. And animals. It's life force, so to speak."

"It's amazing. I mean, at first it tasted like metal and sugar, but the more I drank, the better it tasted. I couldn't believe I was drinking it, but it was… addictive," the teen admitted, his eyes widening as his mouth turned up in a slight grin. "It was like… e'erything I love to drink, all mixed together."

"That's why people want it. It's like a drug. People drain vampires and sell the blood for an insane amount of money," Sam explained. "You just got a ton of it, for free. The addicts would be jealous," he added with a grin. Rory looked confused. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you? No, of course you don't. The only people that would know about that are fangbangers and addicts, and of course the sellers and drainers."

"Fangbanger?"

"It's what they call people who have sex with vampires. Particularly ones that let themselves be fed on, and that get high on vampire blood," Sam replied. "I'm sorry; this is all so much for you, isn't it?" He caressed Rory's cheek with the back of his hand, feeling the sticky, still-damp blood from the assault. "You're a good person, Rory. You risked yourself for that animal. You're willing to give a vampire a chance when nobody else will."

Rory smiled softly. "I just… I don't like people bein' judged, and I don't like anyone, animal or human, to be hurt. Especially if they can't defend themselves. It's not right."

Sam's eyes softened as he smiled again. He looked at the boy, his green eyes glossing over his body as if checking to make sure the blood had fully healed his friend.

"Healing… is… is that all it does, the blood?" Rory asked. "I'm not- it's not gonna make me a… monster, right?" He regretted his choice of words immediately, but it was too late—he had said something he knew had to be offensive.

"I am  _not_  a monster," Sam growled. Upon seeing the frightened look on the boy's face, he sighed and apologized. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Monster is a pretty harsh thing to say, but I'll overlook that. You don't know any better. But no, you're not gonna turn into a vampire, a zombie, or a magical little fairy. There's more that has to happen before any changing occurs."

His face flushing, the teen stared down at the ground. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult ye'," he said. "Especially after ye' just saved me life. I swear I didn't mean any harm."

Sam smiled and lifted the boy's chin with his fingertips. "It's okay. I'll forgive you, but only because you're my friend." Rory smiled in response, his eyes fully restored to their rich blue; Sam couldn't help but stare into them.

"I'm so sorry, Rory. I wish I'd gotten here sooner. By the time I heard everything happening, it was too late to stop it. I hate to think of what would have happened if I didn't hear anything at all," Sam lamented. His friend looked at him with great confusion. "I could sense something was wrong. I didn't know what, but I was sitting at home, and got this… feeling. Like something was wrong. I didn't understand it at first, but somehow I just knew you needed help. I've never felt something like that before. I'll be able to sense you now that you've had my blood, but before that, I can't explain it."

"All that matters is that ye' came at all." They sat there, smiling at each other, staring into one another's eyes. After a moment, Sam scrunched up his face, confusion awash over his features. "What's wrong?" Rory inquired.

"I… it isn't working," Sam frowned. "Don't be upset, but, I was trying to erase the memory of this entire thing happening. I didn't want you to have to remember something so awful, but it wasn't working. It was like… Usually when a vampire initiates a glamour, you're drawn into my eyes, put in a trance, but with you, it just wasn't taking hold. A fish that refuses to bite the lure so to speak. I don't know how else to explain it," Sam said, searching the boy's face for signs of anger. Instead he found relief.

"I couldn't read ye' either," Rory admitted. "When I touch people, I can see their memories if I want to. Well, sort of if I want to. Sometimes it just happens. When ye' touched me the other night, I couldn't see ye'. It was like nothing was there to look at. No flood o' images filling me head, no unwanted information. Just silence. It was… nice."

The corner of Sam's mouth began to turn upward. "Looks like there's more to you than meets the eye, Rory." The teen blushed as if he were being complimented or something. Sam took a glance down at his watch. "It's late. You need to get home. Perhaps we can discuss your ability further another time, if you wish."

Rory nodded. "What about me clothes? I'm covered in blood. E'eryone will want t'know what happened," he said, worried.

The vampire reached over to stroke the boy's hair. "Don't worry. I'll take you to my home, and you can change, wash up if you desire. I have clothes that should fit you. If you're okay with coming to my home, that is. I'll understand if you're not comfortable coming to my house alone."

Rory stood up, off balance at first, but got his bearings back rather quickly. "I've had ye'r blood in me body. Ye' saved me from dying. If ye' wanted to hurt me, ye'd 'ave left me t'die. I trust ye'." He held out his hand to assist Sam in standing up, the older man relieved.

"Thank you," Sam said. "Now, get in my arms, and hold onto me. We've got a ways to go, and I'm gonna get us there in vampire speed." Rory raised an eyebrow skeptically, but as he said, he trusted Sam, so he allowed himself to be cradled in the man's arms, wrapping his own around Sam's neck. He then felt a rush of air and everything went blurry before his eyes. He closed them, the rushing scenery dizzying him slightly. It wasn't until they arrived at their destination that the world seemed to return to a normal speed.

-ooo-

Once they arrived at Sam's home, the vampire gave him spare clothes to wear, and offered his bathroom for him to wash up in. Sam politely let him have his privacy, taking advantage of the time to rest himself. He had already felt weakened after rescuing Rory and the dog, but the mad dash home was almost too much. He leaned back in his recliner and closed his eyes.

"I'm all cleaned up," Rory announced, coming into the room. "I left me clothes in the sink, just like ye' said to." Sam opened his eyes and stood upon the boy's entrance, looking him over, pleased.

"You look much better now. The clothes fit nicely. I wish you could stay, but I need to get you home right away, before anyone gets worried," Sam informed him, his voice laced with sadness.

Rory closed the distance between them and took Sam's hand, looking up at him. "Thank ye', Sam, for e'erything. I'm so lucky to 'ave ye' as a friend. Not just for the rescue and the blood, but because ye'r so… genuine."

Since becoming a vampire, it was very rare that Sam ever felt anything but confident, but with this young teenager, with his beautiful sapphire eyes, his pleasant smile, Sam couldn't help but let nervousness creep into his body.

Sam snapped out of his light daze as he felt Rory's arms wrap around him in a tight hug. At first it surprised him, but then he relaxed, letting himself enjoy the strong embrace.

"Alright, time for you to hold on again. When we get there, I'll drop you off a couple of houses down so nobody sees us. You can tell your family that a friend gave you a ride, but didn't have time to stay," Sam directed.

Rory nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. I hope I don't get Brittany in trouble. She means well, but she can be a little… unreliable." Both of them chuckled, the sentiment funny to Sam even though he knew nothing about the girl except that she was apparently supposed to see him home but never showed.

The teen let himself be cradled in Sam's arms once again, holding on for dear life. Within minutes they arrived at the street Brittany's family lived on, and as planned, Sam let him down two houses away.

As Rory began to walk away, he paused before he even got ten feet. "Sam? Our dinner Friday night… can we make it a date?"

Sam smiled wide, one side of his lips higher than the other. "I'd love that. I'm glad you still want to go."

"O' course I want to go. Ye'r me friend, remember?" He smiled, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight. "Good night, Sam. Thank ye' again, for e'erything," the teen said, turning again and walking away as Sam waved to him. The vampire didn't leave until he saw that Rory was safely in the house, and even then he hesitated a minute before going back to his own home, albeit at a much slower pace. He was going to need a pick-me-up when he got there and a day's sleep to restore his strength. Despite the enfeeblement he was feeling, he was happy. Rory was worth every bit of it.

 


	2. Season 1, Episode 2: Learning Curve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter. It was a lot of fun to write! I bet if you are a True Blood fan, it was instantly obvious to you which characters are parallels to which. There's gonna be more characters introduced this time, and it will start to break away from the TB plotlines a little more by the end of the story. At the time of this writing, I still hadn't decided exactly how long this was gonna be, but it didn't take long for me to decide it was going to be a full length tale, so hang in there with me!_   
>  ****
> 
>  
> 
> **Beta Credit: Ragnarok45, TVTime**

**Season 1, Episode 2: Learning Curve**

Joe Hart was captivated by the voice he heard in the night. It was beautiful—the voice was inhumanly perfect—singing a song that was tantalizingly familiar; every time he thought he'd placed it, the thought slipped from his grasp. Perhaps it was from a dream? Whatever the case, the echoing sound drifted in through his bedroom window, grabbing his attention and forcing him out of bed.

Having snuck out of his home through the open window, the teen began to walk in the direction the sound seemed to be coming from, his feet carrying him forward seemingly of their own accord. He was becoming lost, but something made him not care, the same 'something' that made him ignore the sharp stinging in the soles of his feet as he stepped on debris in the road.

"Why am I at the high school?" he asked the night air, regaining his faculties as his journey came to a close at McKinley High School, right outside the entrance to the gym. The only light came from the single bulb above the door, the only noise the chirp of cicadas. The singing had stopped, but when had that happened?

Joe crept around the school grounds, peeking through the windows, even trying the doorknobs to see if he could get in. He  _had_  to get in there, the source of the melodic voice was inside, even if he could no longer hear it; he just  _knew_  it was in there. It was calling for him.

"Hello," came a very soft whisper behind him. It sounded airy, light, and feminine. Joe should have felt a chill down his spine, fear inside of him, but no, he felt none of that. Instead it was a type of euphoria that came over him.

"Hi," he said, turning around. Whoever had spoken to him had disappeared. Perhaps he had imagined it? No, he had definitely heard a woman's voice speak to him.

Joe was startled when he felt the gentle touch of fingertips on his shoulder. He spun around quickly, hoping to catch a glimpse of whomever was there. What he saw was a woman, her face in permanent shadow. He could see her hair fluttering in the wind - her long, flowing hair. It was too dark for him to see what she was wearing - her entire body nothing more than a shrouded, ghostly form. The only thing that kept him from thinking she wasn't real was the fact that she still had her arm outstretched, her fingers brushing against his bare shoulder, rubbing her thumb across the hem of his tank top.

Before Joe had time to ask any questions, or even speak at all, the human form sidled up next to him, placing her shadowed lips next to his ear. She began to sing softly to him, but then the noise began to amplify. It was intoxicating yet painful as it got louder and louder. It got quieter for a moment as his eardrums ruptured, blood starting to trickle down the sides of his face. His head hurt immensely, not just from the bursting, but it was as if his brain was being squeezed the way one would squeeze a sponge.

Joe wanted to cover his ears, grab his head, fall to his knees, but something wouldn't let him. He couldn't bring himself to move, despite the fact that every nerve in his body was on fire, vibrating like a tuning fork. He could move his eyes, just enough to look downward and observe his skin stretching dangerously taut, his veins threatening to escape his skin. His muscles went rigid, locking his bones in place as they vibrated and cracked in loud snaps. His organs liquefied, leaking out with the blood, staining his flesh black and brown.

By the time Joe Hart was free to collapse to the ground, the mess that had once been a teenaged boy with long dreadlocks resembled no more than an old black mop on a stack of crimson towels and sludge.

"You're insane! You can't go out on a date with him!" screeched Mercedes, her voice echoing from the kitchen out to the bar. "He's a  _vampire_ ; he just wants to drink you dry, or keep you as his pet, or something vulgar like that!"

The sight of the stout woman waving her arms around, her large chest bouncing as she spoke would have been hilarious had she not been yelling admonishments at her co-worker and friend.

"I'm only gonna tell ye' one more time, Mercedes, he's not a bad man. He's nice and wants to be friends. There's nothing wrong with that," Rory insisted, spinning around from the freezer to face the woman. "B'sides, I'll date whoever I want to date, and if I want to go on a date with a vampire, I will," he added firmly.

"Kurt, help me out here, would you? Rory is going on a date with that blonde-haired vampire seducer and he refuses to listen to reason," Mercedes pleaded as Kurt came back into the kitchen, wanting to see what all the noise was about.

Kurt's face went from one of curiosity to one of anger. "Are you suicidal, or just stupid?" His hands were on his hips like a mother admonishing her child, except everyone knew that an upset Kurt was more vicious than any angry parent. He raised his finger in his young friend's face, about to go on, but Rory interrupted him.

"I'm not suicidal and I'm not stupid. Now if ye' two don't leave me the hell alone about it, I'll go to Mike and see if he can put a stop to ye'r noisemakin'," the young teen announced, arms crossed, glaring from one person to the other. When their looks of shock told him that they'd gotten the point, he stomped out of the kitchen, making his way up front to see if there were any customers.

Mercedes and Kurt exchanged worried looks. "He never talks like that. Hell, he's never that assertive, either," the teen woman said quietly. "Or coordinated for that matter. I have yet to see him knock over a bottle of ketchup or trip on his own two feet."

"I know. I bet the vampire already has him under his spell. That glamouring or whatever they call it," Kurt replied, peering out into the restaurant. Just as he had expected, Rory was standing at the back table, taking the blonde vampire's order, flirtatious smiles on both of their faces. "I just hope he doesn't get in trouble with this guy."

"If he so much as harms a hair on his perfectly gelled head, I will personally drive a stake right through his dead heart," Mercedes growled. Kurt couldn't help but grin at her theatrics.

"Unless I get to him first. Let's just keep an eye out for now. Making a scene might make it worse," the barista cautioned. Though his words seemed rational, the look of hatred in his eyes was anything but.

"It looks like ye'll be me nightly customer," Rory winked as he approached the table Sam was sitting at. "Glad I will 'ave at least one table e'ery night."

"Is that a bad thing? Would you like me to leave?" Sam replied playfully, smiling.

Rory arched an eyebrow. He leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "I'd ne'er ask ye' to leave. Especially after last night. Ye'r like me own bodyguard."

"How do you feel, anyway?" Sam inquired, keeping his voice purposely low and avoiding eye contact with anyone but Rory.

A wide smile spread across the teen's lips. "I feel wonderful. I 'ave all this energy, and I feel... I feel  _stronger_ , if that makes any sense."

Sam reached out and touched the boy's hand. Rory didn't recoil, a pleasant gesture for them both. "Don't get too used to that, my friend. It's very temporary. An effect of the blood. You'll probably notice a few other effects as well."

"Like what?"

Sam stared deep into the ocean blue eyes looking at him. "Heightened senses. Better hearing and sense of smell. Increase in agility and endurance. Increased physical strength, and..." He trailed off, the look on his face shifting to one of desire.

"Increased physical strength and what?" Rory asked, never one to miss out on a detail such as that. "What else is there? Is it something bad?" He suddenly appeared worried; concerned that he may be danger.

The vampire chuckled lightly. "No, it's nothing bad. It's actually quite good, depending on how you look at it." He paused, considering a polite way to phrase the effect. "It's increased libido."

Rory broke eye contact with him. "Libido? What's that?" he questioned just slightly louder than he meant to. Realizing his error, he quickly hushed himself and leaned back down. "Sorry. But what's libido? What's it do?"

Sam couldn't help but laugh at the boy's innocence. "It's, well it's ah, let me see how can I explain this properly? Libido, it's what makes you aroused. Sexually," he stated, trying to keep himself under control. "Put simply, it increases your sex drive."

Rory turned deep red at the mention of sex. "Wait, ye' mean I...? Oh me God, It's gonna make me...? I'm so embarrassed!" He blurted out. He began to feel a light tingling in his loins, but as he became more apologetic, it faded.

"Don't be ashamed, Rory. Sexual arousal is a natural part of existence. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. On top of that, the effect doesn't last long either, but in the meantime you might find yourself wanting physical contact a little more than usual," the blonde went on to explain. "Perhaps even the simple need to… have some gentleman's time alone, if you get my meaning."

"Oh, okay," Rory said softly, clearly still shy about the topic but understanding exactly what Sam was referring to by time alone. In an attempt to change the subject, he excused himself to retrieve Sam's drink, hoping that when he returned, Sam would be ready to discuss something else. Besides, it didn't matter about this libido thing anyway: he was still a virgin, a teenager, and a guy. His libido was strong enough as it was, but if he managed to keep it under control already, he figured he could handle the enhancement.

-ooo-

Fifteen minutes before closing, Mike asked Rory to come into his office. Tina offered to finish his cleanup, which made him all the more nervous. The only time anyone ever needed to go to Mike's office was because they were in trouble, or they needed to ask for time off, and since he had no vacation planned, it meant he had to be in some sort of trouble, but for what?

Rory knocked on the door, waiting to be invited in. Mike ushered him inside, asking him to close the door. Closing the door didn't make the Irishman any less nervous - in fact it only set him more on edge.

"Go ahead and have a seat. We need to talk a minute," Mike said in a friendlier tone than Rory had expected. "You're not in trouble, you know," he said, noting the boy's trembling hands. "I just want to talk about this friend of yours. The vampire."

Rory sighed heavily, feeling foolish for not expecting this topic to be the one in question. "His name is Sam. Can ye' please call him by his name? It sounds so mean to call him 'the vampire' all the time," Rory asked quietly.

"Sure, sorry about that. I didn't know his name. Anyway, I want to talk about your new friendship with Sam," Mike announced. The look on his face may have been friendly, but his tone was firm and mature.

"He's a good man, Mike. I promise. He can't glamour me, either, just like I can't see inside his head. Neither one of us knows why. Somehow we're immune to each other," Rory explained confidently. He knew that he needed to muster up every ounce of assertiveness that he had within him in order to convince Mike not to be concerned. "It's refreshing, and… it makes me feel normal."

Mike scratched his chin, looking over the boy. He had long since given up on convincing the boy that he was indeed normal, just gifted. "Rory, you're young, impressionable. You see only the good in people. That can be very dangerous when we have vampires running around. You need to be cautious, no matter how 'normal' it makes you feel."

Rory scrunched up his eyebrows, suddenly angry. "What are ye' trying to say, Mike? That I'm not responsible enough to make me own choices in friends?" he demanded, raising his voice slightly.

"No, I just mean that you need to be careful. Vampires—people are dangerous. You have to be careful who you trust," Mike said calmly. He had a surprising sense of control considering his employee had just started to talk back to him. "I can't tell you who to be friends with, but I want you to promise me something."

"Okay, what is it?"

"Promise me that you'll be careful. At the first sign of trouble, run away. Call for help. Wear some silver around your neck. Don't go home with him, stay out in public. If you're in public, he probably won't do anything," Mike begged. He had given up on ordering Rory to do anything; he knew that would only irritate the teenager and probably drive him even further into the vampire's—Sam's—arms.

Rory half-smiled. "I'll be fine. I'll promise ye' that. I'm safe with him. If anything happens, ye' can tell me 'I told ye' so' until ye' turn blue." He stood up, signaling that he was ready to drop the conversation altogether.

Mike nodded, sighing. It was the best he would get from the kid. He stood up and followed Rory out of the office, back into the bar, where Kurt was locking the doors and Tina was already wiping down tables.

The Asian woman walked up to him and slipped a bill in his hand. "Here, your boyfriend-to-be left this for you. I wish my customers treated me that well."

Rory smiled, not even looking at the amount of the bill—it was a twenty—stuffing it in his pocket. "I could let ye' wait on him if ye' need some money," he offered.

Tina giggled. "Thanks, but I wouldn't dream of taking away your favorite customer. I doubt he'd leave me such a good tip, either. Apparently girls aren't his type."

"I doubt that's why he leaves me those tips," Rory argued with a chuckle.

"Well, you  _do_  give some stellar service, I must say." They exchanged smiles at her compliment. "Go on, I got the tables. Go balance out your tickets so you can go home. It's inventory night, so I'll be here with Mike late anyway."

"Thanks, Tina. I appreciate it," the teen said, walking toward the register. He couldn't help but find it odd that Mike seemed so wary of Sam, and vampires in general, yet Tina was not only more open minded, but she even encouraged him. Sometimes the Asian couple could be total opposites, but they never showed one bit of discontent with each other.

-ooo-

As Sam had promised, he picked Rory up exactly on time. He actually owned a vehicle, much to the boy's surprise. After the super-speed trip from Sam's to his own home, Rory had just assumed Sam ran everywhere he needed to go. Instead, the vampire drove an old Ford truck. It had to be from the 80's, but there was a certain charm about riding in an old style vehicle – one that was older than Rory himself.

"Shouldn't I meet your parents before we go? It's the proper thing to do, isn't it?" Sam asked as Rory emerged from the front door of his home, dressed in khaki pants and a light green polo shirt.

The teen shook his head. "They aren't me parents. I just stay here. Me family is back at home, in Ireland." He followed Sam to the truck, where the older man politely opened the door for him, helping him climb up inside.

"So, you're from Ireland," Sam stated. "How long are you staying here in America?" he asked as he crawled into the truck himself. Rory hadn't seen him zip from one side of the vehicle to the other, moving so fast he may as well have teleported.

"Until graduation. I'm a junior this fall, so I 'ave two years until I go home. It's really lonely, ye' know. I mean, I 'ave me friends here, but I miss me family so much back home," the teen lamented.

Sam smiled. "I could always get you there, if you wanted. I can buy you plane tickets when you need them, and then you could visit your family." He reached down and started up the truck, putting it into gear.

Rory grinned but politely declined. "I couldn't do that. It's way too expensive, and e'eryone would ask questions. I'm not sure me family would approve of me being friends with a vampire," he said, lowering his eyes. "I'm sorry, we should talk about happy things. I don't want to ruin our date talking about stuff like that."

Sam slid his hand over and placed it on top of Rory's. His hand was cool, but not icy the way most people claimed vampire skin to be. It felt great to feel the touch of another person without fear of drawing out their memories. "You're right," Sam agreed. "Tell me more about this… ability of yours. I'm quite intrigued."

"It's kind o'weird. I mean, I touch people, and I can see into their heads," the teen began. Sam listened intently, but kept his eyes on the road, his hand on Rory's. "For as far back as I can remember, anytime my skin would make contact with someone else's, I couldn't control it. I saw so much I ne'er wanted to. It was really disturbing as a wee one. Findin' out me fourth grade teacher was into weird, kinky sexual things was just too much. I ne'er looked at her the same after that."

"That would definitely upset me, too. That falls into the 'too much information' area. So you're like a mind reader?"

Rory scrunched up his face. "Sort o'like that. I can't see what's goin' on in their mind right at the moment. I can see their memories. Thoughts they already had, things they remember. I can't tell what they're thinking right then."

Sam thought a moment. "Have you ever tried? To read their thoughts, I mean. What they're currently thinking."

The Irish teen nodded his head. "I tried, but it just doesn't happen. It's like reading a book, except I'm always a page behind. I can't see the page they're on, and I can't see the next page, but I can see anything before. Well, almost anything. The flashes aren't always real clear. Sometimes it's random memories, other times just random thoughts. If the memory is really clear, really detailed, it plays kind o' like a movie. Otherwise it's like a slide show."

"And for some odd reason when you try to look into my head, nothing happens, right?"

Rory nodded again. "I touch ye' and there's nothin' t'read, like an empty book. No thoughts, no memories, just emptiness. I can usually block out someone if I concentrate, but I'm not concentrating with ye'. I know ye' 'ave to 'ave memories in there, I just can't get to them if that makes sense to ye'."

Sam chuckled. "Maybe there's just nothing in there to see. I never was the brightest vampire around," he joked. Rory looked at him strangely, not understanding his joke. "I'm kidding. Maybe your ability just doesn't work on vampires, and since you never met one before, it's the first time you've noticed something different."

"Could me ability be the same reason ye' can't cast a spell on me? That… mind control thing?" the teen asked nervously.

"Maybe. It's not a spell, though. It's called glamouring, and it's an innate ability to vampires, much like your own memory reading. We have to be taught how to do it though, and practice to get skilled with it. All it is though, is we just plant suggestions in your mind, making you think something that isn't real," Sam explained.

"I guess it's a good thing ye' can't glamour me then, because if ye' could, I couldn't 'ave accepted ye'r date because I actually wanted to."

Sam smiled mischievously. "That's a very good point. However, if I recall correctly, we were just going as friends. It was  _you_  who wanted it to be a date. I can't influence you, so I guess that's a good sign."

Rory's face turned bright red and he began to perspire with nervousness. "I… I don't really do that, I just… somethin' made me want to do it. Made me want to ask ye' to make it a date. If ye' can't glamour me, though, then I must really be interested in… in maybe being a little more than friends."

"Perhaps so. We'll find out. You need to spend time with someone before you know if you like them or not. Spend some time with me, and we can find out together," Sam said cheerfully. "Of course, only do what you're comfortable with. If you choose not to go out again, don't feel afraid. I won't pressure you into anything. I really would like to make a friend of you. If it turns into something more, that's wonderful, but if not, I hope we can still be friends." He removed his hand from Rory's and took control of the gearshift, pulling the truck into a parking space and cutting the engine.

"We're here?" Rory asked, noticing they had arrived at BreadStiX. "I didn't know they served Tru Blood here."

"Oh, I checked. They do. There will most likely even be other vampires here." Sam got out of the truck and, in a flash, was opening Rory's door for him, offering his hand to assist him out of the vehicle. "I hear they also have some amazing Italian food, as well as old fashioned American cuisine."

Ever the gentleman, Sam held the door open for his date, stood until Rory had slid into his seat at the table, and let him order first. Having never been on a date before, Rory wasn't used to such treatment, and it was refreshing to experience compared to always having to watch everyone else being treated so special.

The waitress gave the pair a funny look as Sam ordered a Tru Blood while Rory ordered actual food. They exchanged pleasant conversation while they waited-Sam inquiring about Rory's studies in America, his home back in Ireland, his family. The teen appeared a little saddened as he thought about home, but quickly cheered up again when he felt Sam's cool hand on his across the tabletop.

"So, ye've asked me all about me home and e'erything, but I don't know much about ye'. It's ye'r turn to tell me about ye'." Rory said inquisitively. "How old are ye'?

Sam chuckled. "Well that was abrupt. I'm one hundred and seventy years old." The much younger teen's jaw dropped, his eyes wide. It was common knowledge they were often quite old, but the realization that Sam really was over a hundred years old was just hitting the teen. "Vampires keep their physical appearance the same as when they were made. Physically we never age. I suppose you could say I'm lucky—at least I was turned still looking youthful."

"I would ne'er know ye' were so old. Ye' only look seventeen or eighteen at most," Rory said. He considered what he had just said and quickly backpedaled. "Not to say ye'r  _old_  but I mean, well, just, well," he continued to stumble over his words, fearing he may have offended the man, but Sam simply smiled.

"It's okay, I know what you meant. a hundred-seventy isn't exactly young. I was born in 1843 and made vampire in 1860. I doubt you have living grandparents that old," the blonde joked. As soon as he said it he realized just how creepy it sounded, but it must not have bothered Rory, who was laughing heartily at the comment.

When the waitress finally arrived with their orders, Rory dug into his food right away as Sam casually sipped his Tru Blood, which the waitress had poured into a large glass mug with the restaurant logo on it.

"Uh, Sam, can I ask ye' something?" the teen inquired. Sam nodded, signaling for him to continue. "That Tru Blood, does it taste like real blood? Can ye' tell it isn't real blood? Does it come in different flavors?"

Sam chuckled at the slew of questions, amused by the boy's open curiosity. "It tastes close enough. Nothing will ever taste like real blood. Just like a strawberry flavored drink will never taste as good as a real strawberry. I can tell it isn't real blood though—not because of the taste, but it doesn't have the same... energy to it." Rory scrunched up his eyebrows. "Energy, as in life force. When a vampire drinks human blood, there is a certain  _thing_  in it, a nutrient you could call it,that has a certain taste—a certain  _feeling_ —that you can't get with Tru Blood. It has to be genuine."

"A nutrient?"

"It's hard to explain. Think of it like caffeine. Your body has a slightly different reaction to caffeinated soda, which is artificial, as opposed to coffee, which has natural caffeine in it. Maybe it's something only vampires can relate to. As for flavors, it comes in blood types. A, B, AB, O, positive, negative, they all taste a little different, much like teas taste different," the vampire explained casually. As he sipped the liquid some more, he noticed Rory staring at the mug inquisitively. "Do you want to taste it?"

Rory seemed startled by the offer despite the fact it was obvious he was curious to try the synthetic beverage. It couldn't possibly be much different than the taste of actual blood, which he had already had a healthy portion of nights before. In fact, that taste had been oddly pleasant at the time. "Is it gonna do the same thing to me that ye'r blood did? The senses and strength and… stuff?"

Sam shook his head, an amused smile crossing his features. "No. For one, this is meant to simulate  _human_  blood, and even if was made to taste like vampire's, it lacks the actual 'nutrients' in the vampire blood that cause the bodily reactions. That's why people sell it as a drug; because they want the real thing, the stuff that gives them the sensations they're looking for."

"Ye' mean the same things that I felt after I drank ye'r blood?"

Sam nodded. "Of course, it usually acts like more of an aphrodisiac, but perhaps you're different. Whatever gives you your special ability might be lessening those kinds of effects perhaps. Thankfully, whatever it is that gives you your ability didn't interfere with the accelerated healing. I'd be quite sad if you hadn't made it."

Rory cocked his head to the side, not even bothering to ask what 'aphrodisiac' meant but more interested in Sam's last comment. "Ye' would?"

"Yes. I don't like to see people being hurt, especially people who are kind. I may be a vampire, and my kind has a history of murder and death, but I long ago abandoned that and prefer to live in society," Sam explained. He sipped his drink once more, and then pushed it over to his date. "You wanted to try it, right?"

"Yeah, just a tiny bit," the teen replied. He put down his fork and took hold of the mug with both hands. He brought it closer to his face, his big blue eyes watching Sam. His lips touched the edge and he very cautiously tipped it up so he could get just the smallest bit into his mouth.

The beverage was hot. He hadn't expected ninety-eight point six to feel quite so warm. He drew some of the liquid into his mouth, Sam watching him intently, awaiting a reaction. He got what he was searching for as Rory scrunched up his face and quickly set the mug down on the table, grimacing.

Sam chuckled lightly. "Not the same as my blood, is it? Curiosity quelled?" Rory nodded his head vigorously. Sam handed him a napkin and motioned for him to wipe his lips. Rory pushed the mug back to the other side of the table as if it were toxic, accepting the napkin and wiping his mouth clean.

"Ne'er gonna try that again! It was awful! It was worse than me own blood when I bite me lip!" he exclaimed. He then picked up his own glass and chugged down half of the soda. Sam giggled, amused. They sat in silence for a few minutes as Rory continued to eat his meal, happy to get the dreadful flavor out of his mouth.

"I see you have recovered from your blood adventure," the blonde joked when Rory finally finished eating and slid his plate aside.

"Yeah, that's an adventure I ne'er want to repeat! I could ne'er survive bein' a vampire if I had t'drink that stuff." Rory took another sip of his beverage before continuing. "Anyway, Sam, tell me about ye'r life before being a vampire. What was it like back in the early years?" The question seemed both random yet logical and was a wonderful way to change the topic from the taste of blood types to something slightly less supernatural.

Sam laughed. "There really isn't much to tell. It's not that exciting. My family consisted of farmers in what is now Nashville, Tennessee. I grew up doing chores first thing in the morning, going to school until the afternoon, and coming home to help with the farm until supper, when momma would make a nice meal and then I'd do my homework, maybe help with the kids. When I was taken out of school, I worked the farm full time with my father."

"Ye' had siblings? Why did ye' leave school?"

"Yeah. Two. A brother and a sister. Stacy was six and Steven was eight. Mom already had Stacy out helping feed the hens and collect the eggs. Steven would help with milking the cows and feeding some of the other animals. Papa and I, we did all the hard labor," the much older teenager went on. "I stopped school because my father needed so much help with the farm. It was really big, and required a lot of constant work."

Rory looked thoughtful a moment, trying to imagine what it must have been like. He pictured a typical farmhouse with a barn, animals all over the place, and Sam and faceless family members moving about, doing their tasks. "What did ye' do for fun? Ye' had to 'ave some spare time, didn't ye'?"

Sam grinned. "Yeah, I got some spare time, but not much. My dad would let me have a few hours on Saturdays and then aside from feeding the animals, we didn't do any hard labor on Sundays, the Lord's day. That's when I'd get to see friends and have family time."

"What did ye' do?"

"Me and my friends? We'd play sports in the empty fields. Go swimming in the lake. Run around the woods, wrestle about," Sam replied. He then gave a mischievous grin as he disclosed some of his less innocent acts. "Sometimes we'd smoke a little herbs, talk about girls, release some tension. Most of the time we just hung around, maybe shot off some rifles at cans for practice."

Rory raised an eyebrow. "Girls?"

"Yeah. Back then I was into girls. I even had relations with a few. It wasn't until I became vampire that I explored outside the realm of simple things with girls. I got more... adventurous." Sam thought back on his human life, back when things were hard. Well, harder. Life was hard as a vampire, too, but there were certain freedoms he could enjoy that he couldn't as a human. Freedom in general, but he missed his family. That was the hardest part - having to leave his family behind.

"How did ye'... ye' know, become a vampire?" Rory asked next. Sam knew the question was coming up, but he had no desire to discuss it, not now. He knew the boy was only curious - being sixteen and meeting his first vampire, of course he had a lot of questions. Sam couldn't be mad at that, but it was also bringing to light some sad memories for him. He almost wished Rory could just touch him and read his memories like the boy could with humans. Of course that would mean they wouldn't have as much to talk about.

Sam sighed lightly. "Can we not talk about that right now? It's kind of unpleasant, and we're having such a nice time. I'll tell you about it another time, I promise."

Rory smiled and nodded. "That's okay. I don't want to bring up anything bad for ye'."

"So we've chewed the fat over my past, now tell me about yours. Tell me what life was like for you growing up and how it is now. I imagine it's vastly different being a teenager now than it was in my time. Tell me all about it."

For the rest of their time at the restaurant, Sam asked Rory the same questions - what it was like at home, what his family was like, how he entertained himself. The boy had already told him about school and minor details about his family, but Sam wanted to know more. He asked Rory to recall as early as he could from his childhood, where he had grown up, everything. When it came down to it though, things weren't vastly different as far as concept. Rory, too, had chores, went to school, spent time with family and friends. The main difference was the fact that Rory and his friends played with electronics like video games instead of shooting tin cans off of fence posts and they certainly didn't smoke or release tension together.

When the check came, Sam wasted no time in snatching up the bill, even as Rory began to dig through his wallet. "This is my treat. It's a date, and I asked you out, so I pay the bill." He smiled as Rory opened his mouth to politely argue and remind Sam who had actually requested it to be a date, but Sam placed his finger on the boy's lips to silence him.

No sooner had they returned to Sam's truck and gotten buckled in, than Sam's phone rang. He took his phone from his pocket and looked at the caller ID. "Excuse me, I have to take this. I'm sorry," he said in an apologetic tone. Rory just shrugged, smiled, and looked out of the window, trying not to pay attention to his friend's conversation. Unfortunately he couldn't help but pick up Sam's end of the exchange. Apparently he was speaking to someone named Sebastian, who wasn't concerned with what Sam was doing at the moment, and wanted him right away. When Sam terminated the call, he was visibly distressed.

"E'erything okay?" Rory inquired, turning to face the man beside him.

The blonde put his fingers against his forehead and sighed. "Rory, I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid we have to cut the date portion short. I've just gotten a call from the sheriff, and he needs me to meet him urgently."

"That's okay, I understand. I didn't know ye' were friends with the sheriff though. Does he know ye'r a vampire?" the teen asked innocently.

Sam laughed. "He's a vampire sheriff. They're in charge of this area. Every state is split up into areas, each with a sheriff. It's like the local government sort of. They keep order. And I would  _not_  say we are friends. If anything, I dislike him very much, but I have no choice but to answer to him. When a sheriff makes a 'request', you don't ignore it."

"Oh," Rory replied, blushing at his own ignorance. "I'm sure I'll see ye' again soon though, right?"

"You aren't going home yet. I'm sorry. When he says immediately, he means immediately. Your home is in the opposite direction of where we need to go. I'll have to bring you with me."

The young teen shrugged again. "Okay. I don't mind. It could be fun. Where are we going anyway?"

Sam sighed once again. "It's... a bar. A vampire bar, called Scandals. The sheriff owns it and his progeny runs it with him." Sam had already put the truck in gear and was driving as he explained what was about to go on. "A progeny is what we call someone a vampire creates. It means that she was turned vampire by him, and so she is forever connected to him."

"In a way that almost sounds kind of… like slavery," Rory said, frowning. Sam shook his head.

"No, it's not slavery. It's more like parent to child. Except a progeny often has a physical, even loving relationship with their maker. Anyway, listen to me, okay? As long as you're with me, you're safe. Don't go wandering around on your own, don't talk to anyone, just stay right by my side," the vampire instructed.

Rory's eyes suddenly showed nothing but intense fear. "Is this place  _that_  dangerous? Are ye' sure I should go in? What if I waited in the truck?"

"No. You are  _not_  waiting outside. You'll be fine if you stay by my side and keep quiet," the blonde repeated sternly. He looked over from the road to see the brunette had a hurt look on his face—the look of someone feeling shunned. Sam softened up. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to scare you, or talk to you like a little kid. I don't like going to Scandals, to be honest. Sebastian is a pompous ass, and his progeny is kind of… not nice. I just don't want anything to happen to you before our next date."

The young teen's eyes perked up. "A second date? Ye' really want a second date?" he asked enthusiastically.

"Yes, very much. A second, and a third, and maybe more. Right now, I just have to see what Sebastian wants with me, and get through this little visit," Sam said. His friend smiled and watched the trees passing by the window, a comfortable silence between them as they both mulled over the idea of spending more time together.

Rory sighed happily as he felt Sam's cool fingers reaching out to intertwine with his own. Reassurance and affection, two things Rory knew he was going to need to get through the night.

-ooo-

Still keeping up with his gentlemanly routine, Sam opened the door to let Rory out of the truck, taking his hand and holding on. "You're with me, so nobody should ask any questions." Rory wasn't sure what to make of that statement but he shook it off and stayed by Sam's side, gripping his hand nervously.

The door to Scandals was guarded by a tallish, round woman who was sitting on a stool, reading of all things, a science textbook. Her shirt had her name stitched on the fabric—Beiste. She nodded at Sam, obviously familiar with the vampire, but said nothing as they went inside. Rory's eyes went wide as he observed the various goings on in the building. Colored strobes flashed in various patterns as numerous male and female strippers danced erotically on poles mounted atop tall platforms. The women were topless, while both genders wore bottom garments that barely covered anything at all. His cheeks turned pink as one of the topless women met eyes with him and winked, reaching up and caressing her breast.

Rory moved his eyes to the opposite side of the room only to see a long bar with more dancers on the counter, the bartenders conducting business between shuffling legs. There were tables all about with patrons sitting at them, talking, making out, or throwing back shots. People were dancing on a large dance floor, bumping and grinding erotically. Men and women together, men and men, women and women. Vampires with vampires, humans with humans, and vampires with humans.

One thing he didn't see, however, was any of the vampires feeding. He had expected to see at least a couple of them latched onto someone's neck or arm, draining away their life force as if it were a martini. The next thing he wondered was how the vampires were able to stand the loud rock music blaring in the bar with their enhanced hearing. It was giving him a headache and he was only listening with human ears.

Far in the back of the bar was a stage, complete with curtains, except there was no play or performance going on. Instead there were only two people watching the bar, both looking almost bored. At the center of the dais, spotlights highlighted the tall, dark haired man sitting in what looked like an over-the-top throne, an equally tall, raven haired woman stood right by his side, her sleek, shiny dress reflecting in the bright light, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail that gave her a severe look. The man's eyes played across Rory's body, not making any effort to hide the fact he was lustful for the boy upon first sight. Sam looked to his side, right at Rory and gave him a curt, encouraging nod. Rory gulped and walked onto the platform with his friend, stopping directly in front of whom he assumed was the sheriff.

"Good evening, Samuel," the man said, the corner of his mouth turning up in a sly grin. He was admittedly handsome with a youthful face, only the slightest hint of stubble on his chin. He wore a black button-down shirt that was halfway undone, exposing his smooth, pale chest. "Who is your friend? He looks positively… delicious." His mouth turned up in a slight smile, his eyes roving over Rory's body.

Rory squeezed Sam's hand, already feeling himself sweating in fear. He had hoped that perhaps he would be ignored, or just casually noticed, but the sheriff, although sitting down, was an imposing man who made no hesitation in asking questions.

"He's human. His name is Rory, and he is mine," Sam stated protectively. He squeezed his hand twice, hoping that Rory would get the hint to just go along with whatever he was saying.

"Is that so? A handsome human male specimen. A shame he's spoken for." The man raised his arm up slightly and motioned for Rory to step forward. The teen looked at Sam, who nodded his approval.

"Go ahead. You're in no danger," Sam assured him. He let go of the boy's hand and reluctantly allowed him to approach his sheriff. He prayed that he was speaking the truth; it was vampire law not to harm another vampire's human, but a sheriff could always make an exception if he truly wanted to, though the decision may still hold unknown consequences.

"Greetings, human. My name is Sebastian Smythe. It's a pleasure to meet you," the sheriff announced. "As I said, it's a shame you have been spoken for."

Rory could tell that Sebastian was challenging him, the way he made his statements deliberate and firm. It occurred to him that the only way he was going to make it through this little meeting was to do exactly as Sam had told him, and play along. "Y-yes sir. I am his. Only his," he stated, trying his hardest to keep the terror out of his voice.

Sebastian chuckled. "Point taken, young man. You may step back."

"Sebastian, are all these theatrics really necessary?" Sam inquired, shaking his head. "I'm pretty sure you've made an impression." He took Rory's hand again as the boy stepped backwards, Rory refusing to take his eyes away from Sebastian for fear that something might happen if he looked away for even a second. Upon touching Sam's hand, Rory felt comfort and safety flow through his body once again.

"Aww, come on, Sam. Let him play it up a little to impress the human. The only ones we ever get in here anymore are fangbangers, and those are so boring," the woman standing behind Sebastian said, leaning over and tracing her fingers across Sebastian's chest. She paused just long enough to gracefully unbutton the next tab of his shirt, exposing more of her maker's chest. She seductively licked her lips ever so slightly, furrowing her brow. Her cleavage was shamefully abundant, her dress barely holding her breasts inside as she leaned down. She sounded flirtatious but it was obvious she held disdain for their guests.

Sam sighed. "You're just as dramatic, Santana. No wonder you two are such a perfect match." The woman, Santana, rolled her eyes and huffed, drawing her hand away and leaning up against the back of the chair. She then smirked at him, knowing that Sebastian wasn't about to give up his charade.

"I think we should talk alone, Samuel. Without prying ears," Sebastian said, nodding toward the human standing beside his summoned quarry.

"No. He stays. He is mine and I keep no secrets from him. I don't trust these fools around him, either," Sam said, motioning around the bar with his free hand. "They're so filled with bloodlust they may not remember the concept of ownership."

"You really are a self-hater, Sam. Get over yourself and give in already," Santana scolded him. She grinned and quickly closed the distance toward Rory. "You are handsome. Has nice guy Sammy had a nice little feed off of you yet?"

Rory gulped, the woman slightly taller only because of her high heels, but her slender figure still intimidating. "N-n-no. Not yet."

Santana scoffed, looking over at Sam. "Figures. Sam, you really are such a bad example for our kind. Lucky for you, I'm not in charge, or else I'd make you feed off him right here, right now. That sweet, Irish accent, I bet the boy tastes of potatoes in his blood." She leaned her head back, cackling in an overly dramatic manner.

Sam scowled at the woman, his eyes dark and filled with hate. "What do you want, Sebastian?" he asked coldly, still keeping his eyes on the seductive progeny.

"Well, you probably don't know, but a body was found in the area, not far from where you live. It's a human, and normally I wouldn't much care unless a vampire was the guilty party, but there was something abnormal about these leftovers," the sheriff began. Rory flinched at his use of the word 'leftovers' to refer to a dead human corpse.

"What was so weird about it? If it wasn't a vampire that attacked, it was most likely a wolf, which I really don't intend to start a fight with," the blonde stated.

Sebastian smiled and stared up lovingly at Santana, the pair exchanging a moment of affection before the man returned his attention to the men before him. "The body wasn't drained. In fact, it looked like none of the blood from the victim was even taken. No bite marks, no marks of any kind as far as teeth, claws, blades. Just a broken, liquefied body. Picture a melted wax dummy, or perhaps you'd care to take a look for yourself?"

"No, that's alright. So what do you want me for? Clean up?" Sam asked sarcastically, annoyed. He knew he was being rude, and he knew he should calm down in front of the sheriff, but he and Sebastian had history, as did Santana and himself, so they were on a slightly more 'casual' level than most.

Sebastian sat upright and stiff, irritated. "Listen you cocky little shit, that body was shattered from the inside. Every bone inside was turned to shards and grit. Its organs were liquefied in a way I've never seen. This wasn't something we're familiar with and what  _I_  want with  _you_  is to do a little recon mission and see what you can find out in that Lima shithole. So here's the deal. You turn around, taking your handsome little toy with you, go home, and then go out hunting the area, see what you can find. Hopefully answers."

Santana chuckled in delight as her maker harshly gave orders to Sam, the younger vampire whom she had extreme distaste for. Ever since Sam had rejected her advances upon his arrival in Ohio, she had been bitter and angry at him, feeling insulted when he refused her offer of a three-way relationship with her maker.

"Fine," Sam stated firmly. "But I only do this once. After that, I'm done. I'm not part of your brigade that goes around solving vampire crimes. You know I am a loner, and I intend to stay that way."

"So arrogant," Sebastian said, rolling his eyes. "You know I chose you for this job for the very reason that whoever, whatever this perpetrator is, they won't be expecting you. They would see a 'brigade' from a mile away. Now quit being Mr. Big Cock in front of your human and get out and get to work." Sebastian remembered his agreement with Sam when the young vampire arrived in town. It was an agreement that left Sam out of most vampire politics as he preferred not to nest with others of their kind. In exchange, Sam would never speak of his rejection of Santana and Sebastian nor would he interfere with the lives of any other vampire in the area.

Sam said nothing in response, but just gave both of the vampires a cold stare before tugging on Rory's hand, pulling him along to leave.

"Wait," Sebastian ordered. "Come back here, I want to see the boy again."

Sighing, Sam led his friend back up onto the stage where Sebastian scooted to the edge of his seat, staring into Rory's deep blue eyes.

"I sense something… different about you. How curious. What  _are_  you?" Sebastian asked Rory, scrunching up his face.

"I'm a waiter, a student. Nothing special," the teen replied, feeling slightly more confident now that he had seen that Sebastian was really the pompous ass Sam had made him out to be.

"Hmph. No, there's definitely something special about you. I've never before met a human I couldn't glamour, and you, you are like trying to force a brick wall to move by staring at it."

Rory gulped again before finding his voice. "That's right. Glamouring doesn't work on me, so I am Sam's by me own free will. That means a great deal more than someone who becomes ye'r slave because ye' force them to with… mind magic."

"Ho, ho!" Sebastian squealed in delight. "Oh yes, boy, you are indeed something special. Don't lose that confidence; you'll need it. I wish to see you again, and soon," he said. He then looked back up at Sam. "Take your…  _whatever_  he is… and get going, but I mean it; I do want to see him again. I need to figure him out. I'm intrigued. I sense something very different, very special about him, but I can't place my finger on it."

"He's special because he's an accepting and caring human being. He's special because he's a good person. Otherwise, he's a normal human. Now, goodbye, Sebastian. I'll give you a report by dawn," Sam said harshly, tugging Rory along one more time. Sebastian watched with delight as the two men quickly made their exit.

Back in the truck, Sam put it into gear and started to drive back where they came from. "Where did you get that sudden burst of confidence from? You're usually so timid. I was impressed you stood up for yourself."

Rory shrugged. "I don't know. It just kind o' came out o' me. Maybe ye'r blood is still 'aving its effect on me." They rode in silence for several minutes before Rory asked something that had been bothering him since they left. "Sam, what did ye' mean when ye' said that I am ye'rs?"

"I was staking claim to you. I should have explained before we went in. See, a lot of vampires will 'adopt' a human to be theirs, sort of like a partner. They voluntarily let the vampire feed from them, and in most cases, they have a romantic relationship. It is forbidden for a vampire to lay hand or fang on someone else's human. By telling Sebastian that you are mine, it secured you from being harmed. I'm sorry if I offended you, but it was for your safety." Sam looked away from the road again and glanced over at the teen, searching for a response.

He didn't get a reply, but instead was greeted by silence. Sighing sadly, Sam took Rory's hand in his own and held it as they drove back to town. Rory didn't pull back, so he must not have offended him too badly. Sam thought a moment and realized Rory's silence could simply be a result of an overload of strange and new experiences for one evening.

"That place… it was awful," Rory finally stated, still staring out of the window. "E'eryone was all o'er each other. It was like the start o' one o' those dirty movies on the internet."

"And how many dirty internet movies have you been watching then?" Sam teased. Rory's cheeks flushed deep crimson as he realized that he very well might have given himself away. Every teenaged boy with a computer watched porn online, but it wasn't exactly something all of them admitted to, Rory included. "Relax, I'm joking with you. I'm trying to make you feel better."

"Thanks, Sam. I'm okay, it was just weird. I mean, ye're so polite and kind and modest, and just seeing all those other vampires in there acting all sexual and perverted, they were the total opposite o' ye'."

Sam smiled as the teen finally looked back at him again. "Rory, I'm not going to lie to you. I have my sexual side, too. I just don't choose to make it as important as those people. It's much more important to me to have a relationship than to get in bed with someone for the sake of it. It's empty and unfulfilling. Intimacy with someone you love is much better."

"That makes sense. I guess… I guess o'er the years ye've had lots of… intimacy."

The vampire nodded. "Yes, I have. Most of it was not with people I cared about, and that was during a time when  _I_  was different. I'm a better person now, and I very much desire a meaningful relationship with someone. I hope that doesn't scare you away."

"No, it doesn't scare me. I agree with ye'. I've seen in people's minds the sick, meaningless… sex… the fetishes and creepy things they do and I've seen some really happy memories o' people with their mates. That's what I want, happy memories with a special person," the teen confessed. His cheeks had not returned to their pale color, but were still flushed as he told the man private thoughts he hadn't shared with anyone else before.

Sam squeezed his hand again. "I'm going to assume then, that you're pure, a virgin," he began. Again the boy's cheeks blushed deeper still. "Take it from me, save yourself for someone special. Don't do it just because the chance comes along. You'll be glad you did when you remember it later." He smiled, pulling their intertwined hands toward his lips and gently kissing the top of Rory's hand. "Sorry, I don't mean to lecture."

"No, no it's okay. I feel better now. Knowing that ye' want the same thing I do. It makes me feel like less of a lost cause," Rory said. "I used to think I was the only one who really felt that way, except for me friends who already 'ave someone special. Mike and Tina. Kurt and Blaine. Mercedes is single, but she has her eye on a boy named Shane. I see in people's heads and all they remember is hardcore sex. Some of it very… scary. Stuff with no one special."

"You're not alone. Lots of people feel the way we do." The pair was silent for a few more minutes before Sam spoke up again. "I want you to know that whatever comes of our friendship, I'll always be honest with you. I may not always do the right thing, I might make mistakes, but it's always because I care about you. Friend or more."

Rory smiled adoringly at the man. "I promise to do the same."

When they arrived at Rory's home, Sam jumped out of the truck to let his friend out. As he held out his hand to help the boy out of the vehicle, Rory instead pulled himself forward using the proffered hand and planted a soft kiss on the blonde's lips. Sam was taken aback, unsure of how to respond at first, but realized that it was simply an innocent sign of affection, nothing more.

"Thanks for a wonderful night, Sam. Even with the weird bar, it was fun," Rory admitted.

Sam grinned "I'm glad Sebastian and his bitch- uh I mean progeny didn't ruin it for you. Good night, Rory. Get some sleep, and I'll call you tomorrow evening, after I wake."

Rory gave him another quick peck on the lips and then started to walk away. When he got halfway up the drive, he turned, Sam still watching him. "Ye' know, since we want each other to be honest, I think I 'ave to tell ye' something. I think I would like it very much, if ye' would let me really be ye'rs. Like ye' said. Can I really be ye'rs? I know it's so soon, but… I really feel like it's the right thing. So, can I be ye'rs, Sam?"

The vampire smiled widely and nodded. "Yes. You can really be mine. I'll protect you and spend plenty of time with you, and I promise, I won't feed off of you. I don't look at you as food. I look at you as an amazing young man. The only way my fangs would find their way into your skin was if you requested it—something I will  _never_  obligate you to do."

"Thank ye', Sam. I trust ye'." With that final statement, Rory turned back around and made the rest of the trip up the drive, unlocked the front door, and slipped inside. Sam stood by the truck for a moment more, smiling at the knowledge that not only had he kept Rory safe from harm at Scandals, but that he also now had the devotion and affection he had been craving for decades since becoming alone; something that no fully grown human or vampire had given him in all that time. They hadn't expressed love yet—it was still too soon for those words and emotions to come through, but something told him that someday it would be the right time, that if they followed this path, everything would turn out just fine.

 


	3. Season 1, Episode 3: Alliance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Author's Notes: How did you guys like the first mysterious death scene? For anyone not familiar, Samuel Larsen tweeted that he and Damian McGinty would both be returning to Glee for season 4. Well, he apparently needed to fact-check because it was officially announced Damian would not be returning. Talk about a buzzkill. Since Ryan Murphy isn't a character on Glee, I figured the next best thing to vent out my anger was to off the character of the guy who got my hopes up for a decent season. And there you have it, the wrath of an irrationally angry author. :) Of course here we are, season 4 having ended by the time this is released and I am still slightly bitter about that. On the plus side, we got so much Sam it helped make up for it._  
>  ****  
> Beta Credit: Ragnarok45, TVTime

**Season 1, Episode 3: Alliance**

The mysterious death of Joe Hart was all over the news, cited as a grisly murder that people were already speculating was vampire-related. The staff of the Lima Bean, as well as some of their patrons, had gathered around the wall-mounted television to watch the latest news brief.

Currently, a debate was raging between the spokespersons for two of the major factions in the country. On one side was Sue Sylvester: a forty-something blonde with her hair cut short, wearing a track suit and her trademark sour expression. "As representative of the Fellowship of the Sun, I demand swift justice be brought down upon the vampire or vampires who committed this heinous act of murder against Mr. Joseph Hart, an upstanding human member of our church," she said sternly. "It wouldn't surprise me if this was done by the same vampires that murdered Reverend Steve Newlin!"

On the other half of the screen was her exact opposite: an elegantly-dressed woman with long blonde hair who appeared no older than thirty. Her name was Holly Holliday, representing the local chapter of the American Vampire League. "There has been no evidence so far that even suggests any vampires were involved with this crime. Until the authorities have collated the evidence they  _do_  have, all parties are considered innocent until proven guilty.  _All_  parties, Ms. Sylvester: vampire and human. Humans and vampires are equally capable of grisly acts, a fact that history has repeatedly proven. I believe such considerations need to be taken into account before any side starts lobbing baseless allegations..."

Sue and Holly continued debating back and forth, Holly the much more composed and mature of the two despite her youthful demeanor. Sue fired off more insults disguised as arguments against vampires than she did actual facts. Indeed, all of her supposed data against vampires consisted of nothing but false claims and made up statistics. It was laughable how someone standing up for the human community—someone who was supposed to defend them, to prove how much better than vampires they were—could, herself, be such a poor example of humanity. Yet, here was Sue, acting like an irrational child while Holly remained calm and responded to the other woman's vitriol with a polite sassiness and tact—the vampire behaving more like a "human" than her counterpart.

"I have to admit, for a vampire, that Holly sure holds up good in a debate," Mercedes commented, turning away from the TV and strolling back toward the bar. "Good thing she isn't a lawyer or we'd all be in trouble anytime a vampire-on-human crime came up."

"They need to find someone better than Sue Sylvester and the Fellowship of the Sun. She makes us all look stupid, even if she does make some good points. The thing is, nobody takes the Fellowship seriously because they're such extremists, like PETA," Kurt added, patting his perfectly coiffed hair to make sure it looked just as good as it did the last time he checked himself out before walking off to join Mercedes at the bar. "I wouldn't be surprised if they came out with more Unhappy Meals for McDonald's, filled with fake vampire guts and everything."

"That's disgusting, but probably true. We need the Human Political Action Committee to do more interviews. Then we might get taken seriously. Someone to put that Holly Holliday in her place," the stout woman responded. She then lowered her voice. "Do you think that vampire knows anything? That Sam guy. I bet he told Rory what's going on," She paused a moment, looking around to see if Rory was in earshot. "Hell, I bet it was him who did it."

"Oh no, then that means Rory could be next!" Kurt exclaimed, throwing his hands over his mouth as he saw Mercedes' eyes widen, her head giving a slight nod toward the figure who'd come up behind him.

Standing at Kurt's back was Rory, arms crossed, tapping his foot, the expression on his face angry. It was an expression not often seen, as Rory was more timid and reserved, maintaining his composure in most cases. Kurt turned around, embarrassed.

"I'll 'ave ye' know that Sam is actually the one looking into the murder. He was called by his sheriff last night and was assigned to investigate," Rory stated sternly. Kurt started to open his mouth but quickly shut it. "Maybe ye' need to check the facts before ye' go around blamin' people for things ye' know nothing about."

Kurt muttered an apology, though secretly he was only apologetic that he had been heard. He then slipped away toward the kitchen, leaving Mercedes on her own. "I need a large mocha cappuccino for table four, if ye' don't mind," Rory said flatly, glaring at the woman, who simply nodded.

Rory walked away from the bar, unsure if he was more hurt that his friends didn't trust his judgment, or simply angry that he was being talked about behind his back. Before he had time to figure it out, Tina approached him, smiling as always.

"Hey, how'd your date go?" she asked cheerfully, stopping him mid-stride.

"It was great. He took me t'dinner, and then we went to a vampire bar t'meet his sheriff. It was fun. Thank ye' for asking," Rory replied, his manner softening at Tina's genuine interest. He decided not to go into detail about the bar itself and its creepy clientele nor about the sheriff himself.

"I'm so glad! It feels great to get out and have a date, doesn't it?" she said, winking at him.

He nodded. "Yeah, it does. It's me first one ye' know. I ne'er been on a date with someone before," he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"Then good thing it was a great experience," the woman said. "So you're gonna have a second date, right? And a third and a fiftieth?" Both of them simply laughed, the younger teen already feeling better knowing that at least one of his friends was supportive. "Oh, I came out here to get you. Mike wants to see you a minute," Tina mentioned. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble or anything."

The Irish teen paled slightly. The last time Mike saw him it resulted in a lecture. Somehow Rory felt like he was about to get another one. He walked toward the hall where the office was and lightly rapped on the door with his fist. Mike invited him in, Tina following him into the room. She shut the door behind them, offering Rory a chair while she opted to sit on the corner of the desk. Tina was famous for keeping things informal.

"I'm glad to see you survived your date with the vam- I mean with Sam," Mike said coolly. "Are you planning on another one?"

"It was great. And yes, I think we'll see each other again," Rory replied confidently. "Why?"

Mike sighed. "I'm just concerned. I was worried about you already, but now this murder makes me worry even more. I don't want to see you be the next victim," he said.

"So ye' think he's the murderer too, then? Just like Kurt and Mercedes?" Rory challenged. "He isn't a murderer!" The boy was already becoming agitated, and was about to get out of his seat and leave.

"I didn't say he was a murderer-" Mike began.

"I think you might have said it wrong," Tina interrupted. "I'm pretty sure your Sam isn't the killer. He seems awfully nice," she added. "What I think he means is that we don't want your association with him to possibly get you into trouble. There're a lot of anti-vampire groups out there, and it's been on the news before where humans who were associated with vampires ended up in the crossfire, you know what I mean?"

Rory sighed, simmering down in his chair. "I un'erstand what ye' mean, but I'll be fine. Sam will protect me. He won't let anything happen to me. I trust him," he assured them. "We went to that vampire bar, Scandals, and I felt safe with him. If he wanted a meal of me, he had plenty of opportunity. He's a good guy. A gentleman."

"I'm happy for you, Rory. I really am. I hope everything works out with him. I just hope that nobody else gives you trouble, that's all we're saying," Tina clarified. "He seems like a really nice guy, and he's very handsome. It's the crazies out there that worry me."

Mike shrugged. "She said it better than me. That's why she stays around, to keep me from looking stupid. Just be careful. Sam might have good intentions, but not everyone else he knows might share that."

"I'll be fine, I promise," Rory reiterated, looking from Tina to Mike and back. "Sam won't let anything happen to me. He said so, and I trust him."

Both of the older teens nodded in assent. "I better get back to me tables. Thank ye' for caring though. It means a lot t'know me friends are watching out for me. Especially when other people are just being bigoted."

Rory stood up and turned to leave but had an afterthought. "Ye' know, he said I was his. That means no other vampires can hurt me without getting in trouble. And it means... I think it means he's me boyfriend now."

Tina and Mike exchanged confused stares at the revelation, Rory slipping out of the door before they could ask any more questions or comment. Rory hoped neither Mike nor Tina would say anything to anyone else, because he knew full well that if Mercedes or Kurt got wind of the vampire phraseology of 'being his' they would have a fit and start on a tirade about vampires owning humans like property, like slaves or pets.

-ooo-

Rory was clearing one of his tables when he felt his phone vibrate on his hip. He knew it had to be Sam because other than Brittany, who never called or texted him unless she wanted him to bring her a coffee home, nobody else ever contacted him. Most of his friends worked there at the Lima Bean so they wee already around each other quite a bit. He quickly finished putting the trash onto the tray and scurried back to the kitchen, tipping the garbage into the bin and setting the tray on the counter. He pulled his phone out and saw that it was indeed Sam. He pushed the icon to bring up the message and read it.

_I will wait for you outside after work, I need to talk to you. Yours, Sam_

At first, Sam's sign off confused him - Sam said that the teen was 'his' but this signature made it sound like Sam belonged to him. Perhaps it worked both ways - what's his is mine and what's mine is his. More importantly, however, what was it Sam needed to talk about? Fortunately, he wouldn't need to wait long - Rory's shift ended in half an hour.

-ooo-

Just as he said he would be, Sam was waiting patiently for Rory when he finished his shift. He was standing by his vehicle, wearing jeans and white t-shirt, with a leather jacket slung over his shoulder gave him a greaser look. Rory giggled at the sight.

"What's so funny?" the vampire asked, confused.

"Ye'r clothes, they remind me o'the movie 'Grease'. Ye' know, John Travolta?" the teen replied.

Sam scrunched up his face. "Hmm, I hope that's a good thing. I'm not familiar with that film, actually."

"Ye' mean in all ye'r years ye' ne'er watched 'Grease'? It's a classic. We watched it in me high school glee club last year. Lots o' singin' and dancin'," Rory explained, standing closer to Sam as he spoke. "They dressed just like ye' except they kept their hair slicked back and drove a big fancy convertible."

Sam smiled and made a mental note to inquire further about the glee club. For now, he had other things to worry about. He pulled his jacket from his shoulder and dug in the pocket, pulling out a photograph.

"Do you recognize this boy?"

Rory took the picture in hand and looked it over thoughtfully. "I saw him around the school, but ne'er knew him personally. He seemed like he was nice though. He was always singin' in the halls when he walked around. He wasn't bad, but me friends are better at singin'. He was always quotin' the Bible to people, too. Why?" He handed the picture back to Sam, hoping that he wasn't about to say that the boy in the picture was the victim.

"His name was Joseph Hart. He's the victim of the murder. Aside from his large dreadlocks, the only things identifying him were tattoos and the fact his mother reported him missing," Sam replied, stuffing the picture back into his jacket pocket.

"What happened to him?" Rory asked nervously, slight chills going down his spine.

"I... it was very graphic. I won't say exactly, but his body was quite a mess. What was left of it," Sam grimaced. Rory's eyes bulged at his last comment.  _What was left of it._

Rory's nerves were on edge knowing that not only was this boy murdered, but it was someone from his school - someone he had seen several times before - and that he had been murdered in such a grisly way that his entire body wasn't even there. The news hadn't gone into that much detail nor had they shown even a school picture of him at his mother's request, and now he could see why they left out the gruesome explanation of his death.

Sensing his unease, Sam laid his jacket on the hood of the truck and leaned forward, taking Rory in his arms for a hug. "I don't really want you to get involved in this. You already know more than you should have to."

"Thank ye' Sam. It's scary knowing there's someone out there butchering people," the young teen said, nuzzling his head into Sam's shoulder. "I feel really safe with ye' though."

Sam smiled and ran his fingers through Rory's hair. "I promise, I will keep you safe to the very best of my ability. Unfortunately, in the daytime I can't do much, but once the sun sets, I will make sure that nothing can bring you harm. Not even Sebastian."

Rory stood back a moment, a confused look on his face. "Sebastian? But he's ye'r sheriff. Why would he hurt me? Ye' said I was ye'rs; he can't hurt me, right?"

Sam sighed. "I shouldn't have said that. Sebastian has an interest in you. When I gave him what I found out, he was asking questions about you. He's taken a fancy to you, but I sternly reminded him that you are mine, much to his dismay. Don't worry, I didn't tell him about your special ability."

A look of relief washed across the young teen's face. "What would he do if he knew about it, about me ability?"

Sam shrugged. "I have no idea, but it wouldn't be good. He'd probably find some way to exploit you and who knows what else. He'll have to kill me before I let that happen," he vowed, his face firm and determined.

"That makes me feel better. I hope it ne'er comes to that, though. I just want to be happy with me vampire boyfriend," the Irishman replied. The vampire grinned.

"Boyfriend, huh? I think I like that. I guess that means we're each other's. I like that a lot better," Sam said. Rory took him in his arms this time, hugging him tightly. Before Sam could stop him, Rory pressed his lips against Sam's, kissing him.

"Ow!" Rory exclaimed, jumping back, his bottom lip bleeding. "What did ye' do that for?" He didn't cry, but he still looked hurt, as if Sam had rejected him. "Ye' bit me!"

Sam would have blushed if he could but the rise in body heat could not occur. "I'm so sorry, Rory! I didn't mean to. I should have warned you, but I didn't think about it until it was too late." He quickly put his hand over his mouth and retracted his fangs, looking aside in embarrassment. "Sometimes that happens to vampires when they get... excited... If I knew you were going to do that, I could have concentrated to keep it from happening."

"It's okay. It wasn't ye'r fault then. I didn't know," the teen said sorrowfully. A thought then occurred to him. What he was about to do would have seemed gross to a normal human, but it made perfect sense in the case of a vampire. Rory pressed his finger against his bleeding lip, gathering up some of the blood on the tip. He then pressed it firmly against Sam's thick lips, pushing in slightly until he could feel the very tip of the man's tongue.

Licking his lips and suckling Rory's finger, Sam couldn't help but let out a quiet moan of satisfaction. Rory leaned in close again, pressing his lips against his older lover's. He could feel his lip being drawn into Sam's mouth, his tongue lapping at the blood as he gently sucked. Rory expected to feel the sharp sting of his lip being cut again, but it didn't come. Sam must have been concentrating very hard to keep his teeth from popping out.

Against his better judgment, Sam continued to kiss the boy, the taste of his blood intoxicating. He had never tasted blood so pure and rich before. The sweetness reminded him of the delicious desserts he had indulged in as a human. He wanted more.

Sam pulled back, unlocking their mouths, his hands shaking slightly. "We have to stop," he declared, breathing heavily.

"Why? Was I not any good?" Rory asked, lowering his eyes. Sam reached over and lifted up the boy's chin with his fingertip.

"Oh, that's not what I meant at all," Sam replied with a smile. "You're a very good kisser. It's just your blood... It tastes different than anything I ever had before. I had to stop myself to keep in control. I don't want to hurt you."

Rory thought a moment. "So me blood tastes different, but good? It won't hurt anything if ye' drink a little bit would it? Like if ye' kept sucking on me lip?"

Sam shook his head resolutely. "No. That's not an option. I am  _not_  going to feed on you."

"It's not feeding on me if I want ye' to though, is it? If ye only take a little bit, what harm can it do?"

"Plenty. I might not be able to stop, for one. You don't know what it's like. Remember how much you kept trying to keep drinking my blood, but I pulled away? You wouldn't be able to overpower me and stop me. Even if I could stop, it would leave you weak and at the very least give you a headache," Sam explained. "I appreciate that you trust me enough to offer, but I won't do it. I refuse to hurt you."

Rory looked rejected. He didn't know why it had suddenly become important to him to have Sam drink his blood, why he was encouraging it. He knew it wasn't a glamour - that wouldn't work on him. So what was going on?

"It's not that I don't  _want_  you, Rory. Trust me, I do. Not just your blood. But I want your safety too. I value you more than to just drink you up whenever I feel like it. You're my boyfriend, not a beverage," Sam assured him. He reached over and wiped the remaining stains from the teen's lip, not wanting him to look like a victim-or a temptation.

"Good night Rory! Sam!" called Tina as she was leaving. Both guys waved at her, Sam pleased to see that apparently not all of Rory's associates found him to be some sort of predator. Mike followed right behind her, giving a simple nod to them.

"Mike is still a little skeptical, but Tina seems to trust me judgment," Rory stated, turning back toward his boyfriend.

"Perhaps a formal introduction would be a good idea. Your friends might not find me so intimidating or, as you say it, 'creepy' if they got to know me a little," Sam suggested. "Only when you feel comfortable, of course."

Rory smiled. "Oh yeah, that would be great! Come in earlier tomorrow and I'll introduce ye' to e'eryone! Mike, Tina, Kurt, Mercedes. They're all good people, really. They just don't know anything about vampires, just the things they see on the telly."

Sam nodded, admittedly a little nervous about being introduced to the people that seemed so wary of him, and obviously protective of their friend. It was almost laughable – a hundred-seventeen year old vampire, unnerved by a group of human teenagers.

"I should go ahead and get you home before anyone starts to worry," Sam suggested, noting the time on his watch. It was a Rolex, a very expensive one at that. Rory noticed the shining gold in the moonlight when Sam twitched his wrist.

"Wow, that's a really fancy watch," the young teen observed, taking Sam's arm and examining the timepiece.

"You should see the collection of watches I have from over the years. Especially the old ones."

"Can I come see now?" Rory asked anxiously. He looked up at Sam with his bright blue eyes, glistening with excitement. Sam couldn't resist, even though he knew he should be getting the boy home instead.

Sam ushered him into the car, holding the door open for him, and then quickly drove to his home. Rory found it much more intriguing now that he wasn't recovering from death. It was an old home, somewhat resembling the old plantation style houses from the days of slavery.

"How old  _is_  this house, anyway?" Rory inquired as they walked inside.

"It was built in the very early 1800's. My parents were humble farmers from Tennessee, but my extended family was from Ohio, and wealthy. They looked down on us because we weren't as well off as they were," Sam explained, frowning at the memory. "Unfortunately for them, the last family member to live here was my father's aunt, and she actually liked him very much, so she willed the house to him when she died. He passed it on to my brother, and he to his son. Steven Junior never willed the estate to anyone else, so when he died, I purchased the home myself," he explained. Rory simply nodded, taking in the sights of the domicile better than before.

Sam took him by the hand and led him to his study. In the middle of the large room was an expensive looking oak desk, and against one wall a highboy. The back wall had floor to ceiling display cases that held many antiques, from weapons to jewelry, to random trinkets, all of them far too old to have come from Sam himself.

The vampire pulled open a small drawer on the desk and removed a miniature brass key, then turned and opened one of the cases. He removed a thin box from one of the shelves and turned around, placing it on the desk. Neatly arranged on black cloth was a collection of timepieces. Most of them looked ancient—from various materials including copper, cheap steel, and brass. There were pocket watches, and ones with leather bands—some tattered and worn. Then there were much more modern pieces, made of silver or gold with wide bands, some digital and some standard face watches.

"Can I touch them?" Rory asked, his eyes wide with amazement.

"Yes, but be careful; the ones that are very old are not in the best condition," Sam cautioned. Rory nodded and very gently turned a couple of them over to examine the backsides. A few of the ones in better condition he picked up and held in front of his wrist to see how they would have looked on him. He turned over one of the old silver watches, squinting at the etching there.

"Can ye' read this? What's it say?" the teen asked, holding the silver timepiece out toward his much older friend. Sam made no motion to take it from him, however.

"I can't touch it. It's silver. Silver is harmful to vampires. I can only touch it if I have gloves on, or something else keeping me from direct contact," the blonde explained. His eyes had a very solemn look to them, as if he genuinely missed touching the shiny metal. "It melts our skin and is really painful, like if you touched a hot stove."

Rory's face flushed. "I'm so sorry! I didn't know," he apologized, pulling the watch toward himself quickly and then placing it back on the felt. Sam reached forward and pulled the young man into his arms and hugged him.

"Don't worry about it," the vampire said. "I don't expect you to know every little thing about vampires." As if to assure the boy that he wasn't upset, he placed his lips against Rory's. Sure that he would be able to keep his fangs in check, he began to up the passion.

Soon the pair of them were exploring each other's mouths with their tongues. Lost in their affection, their hands soon followed suit, roaming all over each other. Rory's hands slid up and down Sam's arms, squeezing the tightly corded muscles. Never before had he felt another man so intimately, and the simple act of massaging the firm biceps was turning him on.

Sam's hands had ventured from Rory's shoulders to his back, then down to his waist. He pulled the teen closer, their bodies pressed firmly against one another's. He could feel Rory's heart beating in his chest as the boy breathed in and out. As they continued to kiss, he could feel not only his own excitement growing in his groin, but his boyfriend's as well.

The fire in their pants intensifying, Sam made the very difficult decision to stop and pull back slightly. "What's wrong?" Rory asked, confused and a little hurt.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to take advantage of you. I want you to be ready before we get too… physical. I want you to make the conscious decision that you're ready, not a choice made through lust," Sam said.

Rory's eyes trailed down toward the floor. "Oh. Okay. I see." His voice was sad, disappointed. He suddenly felt inadequate. Sam was over a century old. He had to have had numerous sexual encounters, with all kinds of men and women. What would he want with a teenaged virgin?

"Don't look like that. It's not rejection, not at all. I just want you to be happy with your choice, not regretting it because you felt pressured, or lustful," the blonde assured him. He lifted Rory's chin with his fingertip, looking into his eyes.

"Are ye' sure that's all it is?" the brunette asked, still slightly insecure.

"Yes. If you want to know the truth, I very much want to take you to my bedroom, undress you, and bring you so much pleasure you would fall apart at the seams. I want the moment to be just right. I promise you," Sam said. "Now, let me see that beautiful smile."

Rory blushed, grinning wide. Sam smiled in return, leaning forward to kiss him again. "I guess ye' were right before; I should get home. Thank ye' for letting me see ye'r watches. They're really amazing," he said. Sam returned to the desk, picked up the thin box and placed it back in the case, shutting the cabinet door and locking it, placing the key in its hiding spot.

-ooo-

Sam pulled into the driveway of the Pierce home, only two lights left on in the entire house. One was Brittany's bedroom window, and the other was the living room, where Mr. and Mrs. Pierce were most likely watching television.

"I hate every time we have to part," Sam whispered softly. "I know it sounds strange, but every time I see you, I fall more and more for you. More than I remember falling for any other person."

Rory smiled, his eyes shining as always. He reached over and brushed his hand against Sam's face, the vampire's cooler skin barely noticeable. "Ye' know, I always thought vampires were supposed to be cold. I imagined it would be like touching ice, but ye' just feel cool, like a light breeze. Ye'r not cold at all."

If Sam could flush crimson, he would have. "There's a lot of things about vampires that people don't know the truth about."

"I'm happy t'learn, though," Rory assured him. He pulled his hand away, gently kissed Sam on the lips, and strolled up the pavement to the front door. Sam watched him as he always did, not tearing his eyes away until the door was firmly shut and the lock clicked closed.

-ooo-

Sebastian Smythe sat on his throne, looking out into the club, observing the patrons. "I tire of these boring humans. All so predictable, so easily manipulated. Even the vampires bore me. They fear me as their sheriff," he lamented, sighing. "They don't put up a fight or anything. I want someone to writhe under me, to scream my name as their body is torn between pleasure and pain."

Santana stood beside him, rubbing his shoulder. "You could always try  _not_  glamouring one of the humans," she suggested with a smirk. "Oh, that's right, you don't have to glamour them because they're all too stupid to deny you anyway." She chuckled at herself, rolling her eyes playfully.

"It takes all the fun out of things, really. I want a challenge," the sheriff huffed. "What I  _want_  is that boy of Sam Evans'. The little toy with the bright blue eyes and racing heartbeat. That boy who somehow is immune to glamour. There's something more to him than just that. I can feel it."

Santana's eyes roamed the room as she listened to her maker prattle on about his desire for conquest. "I've never heard of anyone being immune to that before, either. Do you think he's human? He certainly isn't were, or else he'd stink like wet dog, so what is he?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sebastian's lips turned up in a mischievous grin. "Somehow I get the feeling he isn't human or were, but something entirely different. I think he may be hiding something. I know Sam will never tell what it is, even under command, though."

The Hispanic vampiress shrugged. "You're gonna let that stop you? The Sebastian I know is much more clever. Don't tell me you've lost your touch," she teased. Sebastian turned his head up, cutting his eyes at her. "The Sebastian I know would pull whatever he needed to in order to get his way, man, woman, vampire, or human. Or 'other'."

"You're lucky you're my progeny. Anyone else would be insane to say such things," the man scolded. "Of course I haven't lost my touch. In fact, this is the perfect challenge. I'll seduce him completely on my own, and there won't be a damn thing Sam can do about it. He can't stop free will if the boy is immune to glamouring."

Santana smiled her own seductive grin. "What do you have up your sleeve now?"

Sebastian was silent a moment, only for effect. He had long been thinking about his plan to seduce the boy ever since he laid eyes on him. "You'll see, Santana. You'll see," he finally answered, his mouth curled up in a feral grin. "Now would be a good time to go to the dungeon. I'm left needing some... attention. Bring me a man and a woman. The youngest you can find. We'll play with them until dawn."

-ooo-

Rory looked in the bathroom mirror at his bottom lip. It was swollen slightly—not only from being cut, but from Sam's vigorous suckling as they kissed. The break in the flesh was no more serious than if he'd cracked a chapped lip, so nobody should notice anything out of the ordinary.

He pressed his lips together, feeling a slight throb—his lower lip was bruised, and while the sensation was slightly uncomfortable, it also turned him on as every pulse seemed to reflect in his groin. It wasn't the pain, but the memory of Sam kissing him, their roaming hands, their straining erections. He adjusted himself before stepping out into the hallway to make the short trip to his room. With his luck, Brittany would come about and catch him tenting his pajama pants.

As he lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, he kept thinking about Sam, as he had every night since meeting him. This time he thought about his watch collection and started to picture the man in the old times Sam had described to him of when he was still human. He pictured the pre-vampire chopping wood for the iron stove in the kitchen, the sun glistening on the bare sweaty skin of his torso, the corded muscles in his arms and back tensing and relaxing as he swung the axe over his head and brought it down to split the log. Sam paused to wipe sweat from his brow and look up at the sky, observing a hawk flying by. It was simplicity, peace, happiness for his boyfriend from when he used to be alive.

Alive. Something that technically Sam was not. He was considered dead by the human race, a walking corpse only one step up from a zombie. No, the dead did not walk, did not talk. The dead didn't feel emotion, or smile and laugh. The dead didn't feel anything, and Sam, he felt everything. He walked, talked, and was definitely filled with emotions. He wasn't dead, not to Rory. Sam's physical body may have stopped in time, but his heart and everything that made the vampire  _Sam_  was still very much alive. Just as alive as Rory himself. It was that comforting thought that finally sent him off to sleep for the night.

-ooo-

The next evening, Rory was filled with excitement. Sam was coming to visit once again, but this time Sam would be formally introduced to Rory's friends, and hopefully they would see just how good of a person the vampire was and start opening their minds to the idea that not all vampires were bad.

It was a slow night at the Lima Bean, Rory spending most of his time at the bar, chatting with Mercedes and Kurt. Mike was in his office while Tina was putting up new artwork in the dining area. There was a single patron in the place, and he sat at the far end of the bar, away from the chatting staff members. He came in often, rarely saying anything to anyone aside from his order. He was only known by his nickname, "Puck."

As soon as Sam walked through the door, Puck's nostrils flared and the man made a disgusted sound, a guttural grunt. His eyes were suddenly squinted with some sort of unfounded rage as he looked toward the vampire. He slapped a five-dollar bill on the counter, left his empty glass on the bar, and walked out, just brushing past the newcomer.

"I wonder what his problem is," Mercedes asked, watching as the man stormed out of the door. Between his gruff personality, short mohawk, and leather jacket, Mercedes had always pictured him a badass, but she had yet to see him actually act outright rude like that. He rarely spoke outside of his orders, but he always said 'please' and 'thanks'.

"Maybe he just doesn't like vampires," Kurt hissed sarcastically as he slid himself down the bar to pick up the empty glass and cash. Puck was a strange one—always quiet and brooding with his same drink order every time he came in, watching whatever was on the television at the time—but he was a generous tipper. His drinks only cost two dollars, and he had left three for a tip. Most people left only one, or less.

Rory strolled up to his boyfriend and gave him an innocent hug. "Hi! Right on time," he teased, looking at his watch. "Are ye' ready to meet me friends?" he asked in a whisper.

"I'd be delighted to meet them." The blonde smiled, allowing his boyfriend to take his hand and approach the pair behind the bar.

"Guys, this is Sam, me boyfriend," Rory stated happily. "Sam, this is Mercedes and Kurt," he said, nodding toward the girl and guy respectively. Rory gave the two of them a pleading look that Sam didn't see. Mercedes took pity on her friend, offering her hand.

"Nice to meet you," she said, forcing herself to not lace her voice with sarcasm. She expected the man's hand to be like ice, but to her surprise it only felt slightly cooler than her own. Kurt was less accommodating, merely nodding and saying 'hey'.

"So what is it you two do here? Bartenders I assume?" Sam asked politely.

"I'm a bartender. Kurt's the barista. Only real difference between the two is that he strictly makes coffees and food. I do the fancy drinks," the woman replied. "Of course Rory won't let anyone serve your Tru Bloods but himself so I guess you'll never get to see my bottle spinning skills."

Kurt scoffed. "That's only impressive if it's liquor bottles."

"Well let's see  _you_  spin a bottle then," Mercedes teased back. Sam could see that they had a very good rapport with each other, making playful jibes at one another.

Rory smiled and dragged Sam toward the other side of the restaurant, where Tina was hanging a large painting, or at least attempting to. The nail on the wall from the previous painting was just a little too high for her to reach, even on her tip toes, and the painting quickly started to fall backwards on top of her until a pale hand caught it in the air.

Tina turned around to thank her timely handyman to see herself staring up at a tall blonde man with pale skin and thick, full lips. "Oh! Hi Sam! It is Sam, right?" she said, knowing very well it was his name but unsure of what to say to the unexpected visitor.

"Yes, and you're Tina, right? Pleased to formally meet you," he said with a smile, taking the painting and setting it down, leaning it against the wall.

"I see Rory must be talking about me," she said. "I hope it's good," she added, winking at her young friend. "I've heard nothing but good things about you. Our boy is completely impressed by you."

Sam grinned. "Well thank you, he impresses me as well. In all my hundred and seventy years I have never met someone so honest and genuine as Rory."

Tina's jaw dropped. "A hundred and seventy? Really? Wow… Sorry, I didn't mean to gape, I was just surprised. You don't look more than seventeen or eighteen."

Sam chuckled. "I have the physical appearance of when I was turned, which was age seventeen. Vampires never age physically, thankfully, or else after a hundred and fifty-three years I would look pretty gross."

Tina blushed at his attempt at humor. "Well, you are definitely a handsome man for an old timer," she joked.

"Thank you," Sam replied, relaxing at the woman's genuinely kind demeanor. He could pick up the venom from both Mercedes and Kurt, even though they were hiding it—or, rather, even though Mercedes was attempting to hide it; Kurt was much more overt in his dislike.

"Let's go meet Mike real quick. He's in his office," Rory suggested, giving Tina a wide, grateful smile. Before they moved on, Sam lifted the painting up and carefully placed it on the nail on the wall. Tina graciously thanked him, pleased that she didn't have to struggle with the heavy art piece anymore.

Sam made a mental note—Tina was a shifter. He could sense it on her. Vampires had heightened senses as well as awareness of other supernatural entities in their presence, and Tina was definitely a shape shifter. A very friendly one at that. He wondered if Rory was aware of it or not. Sam figured it best not to say anything, just in case she hadn't 'come out' to anyone.

As soon as they stepped into Mike's office, the aura of shape shifter filled Sam's nose again. Apparently he, too, was a shifter. The man stood up and shook Sam's hand as Rory introduced them to each other. Mike was polite, less hostile than Mercedes or Kurt, but it was noticeable that he also didn't trust the vampire immediately.

"It's nice to meet you. I understand you have reservations about my relationship with Rory, but I assure you I have nothing but the best intentions with him," Sam stated kindly and confidently.

"So Rory says. I believe him, but I have to be honest with you, Sam, I'm not the most trusting when it comes to vampires. More than anything it's the hypnosis that I have problems with, but Rory insists he isn't hypnotized," Mike replied firmly, sitting back down and motioning for Sam and Rory both to have a seat.

Rory looked over at Sam and nodded, a silent bit of permission to discuss things with Mike. "He can't be glamoured. I promise you that," Sam assured the man. "Something about his special ability keeps him from being influenced."

"You've tried?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow disapprovingly.

Sam shifted his eyes to the floor. "Admittedly, yes. But I assure you, the circumstances warranted the attempt."

"Never does something warrant the taking away of free will," Mike argued, raising his voice slightly.

Rory quickly interrupted. "Mike, please. Ye' don't un'erstand. Something happened and Sam helped me. He tried to glamour me because he didn't want me to 'ave to remember the- the stuff that happened."

"What happened? And don't say 'nothing', because I know something happened. You just admitted it," the Asian man insisted.

The Irishman sighed heavily, and looked to Sam for support. Sam gave him a nod, encouraging him to spill the truth. "Some boys were kicking a dog, and I told them to stop. There were three o'them, and they went from kicking the dog to kicking me instead."

"They didn't just kick him, Mike. They were brutal. He had broken bones and was bleeding severely," Sam piped in.

"Is that true? They really hurt you that bad?" Mike asked, worried.

Rory nodded his head. "Yes. If Sam hadn't come, I would 'ave died, Mike. He saved me. He chased them away and then healed me." Mike looked skeptical. "With his blood. He healed me. I drank a little bit o'his blood, but if I hadn't, I'd be dead."

Mike's face was hard. On one hand he was glad that Rory was okay and had been saved from these men who attacked him, but on the other hand it made him furious that the vampire had given Rory his blood to drink. "Are you nuts?" Mike asked sternly. "Drinking vampire blood is like taking drugs. Like crack or something. It does things to you, it's… it isn't safe!"

Rory stood up abruptly. "That blood is what saved me life! Even after chasing those guys off, I was good for dead, but Sam hurt himself to give me his blood so it would heal me!" Sam put his hand on Rory's arm, urging him to sit back down. "Sam, he doesn't understand; it isn't a bad thing, ye'r blood. It didn't hurt me, it helped me. He has to know that!"

"Rory, please. Calm down. He's only concerned for your safety, as any good friend should be," Sam said soothingly.

"Can't ye' just  _make_  him understand?" Rory asked, annoyed. It was almost as if Mike was no longer there, as if it were no big deal what he was asking of his boyfriend.

Sam shook his head. "No. I refuse to do that. I may have tried to make you forget that night, and even that wasn't the right thing to do, but I'm not going to manipulate people to accept me and my kind. They have to accept us of their own free will."

Mike raised an eyebrow, impressed as he witnessed the exchange in front of him. Rory, his friend, actually asked Sam to glamour him, and Sam refused on the ground of morality. It was definitely something he hadn't expected out of either of them.

"Sam, look, I'm going to try my best to trust you, alright? Vampires are still new to us even if you've existed for thousands of years before, and we're still getting used to the idea of living together in the world. I'm sure in your years you've seen how that goes. I'm going to put faith in you because I have faith in Rory," Mike explained, looking Sam directly in the eyes without fear. It was a brave thing to do—vampires needed direct eye contact in order to glamour someone, and Mike was offering Sam the ideal moment to take him over, yet Sam wasn't making any inclination to do so.

"I appreciate that," Sam said simply. "It's been a pleasure to meet you, Mike, and I hope you'll see that I'm not like the vampires you see on television. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to let Rory finish his shift while I have a drink." He was more than ready to move on moreso because of Rory's agitation than his own discomfort.

All three men stood up, Rory leaving first. Before Sam followed behind him, the blonde paused and leaned in toward Mike so as not to be overheard. "I know what you are. You can trust that I will keep your secret, and see that I am indeed a dependable person." He didn't wait for a response, but turned around and left, Rory only feet ahead of him.

Mike sat back down, breathing deeply.  _So he knows. I should have guessed, vamps have that sixth sense thing going on. I wonder if he knows about Tina, too. Probably..._ _Tina. He better leave her out of everything. I don't want her knowing that he knows about either of us, and I don't want her to be afraid._

-ooo-

As soon as Rory's shift was finished, Sam waited patiently for him outside while the staff members locked up. When Rory emerged from the door, Sam took him in his arms for a strong hug.

"Ready to go home?" Sam whispered in the boy's ear.

"Do I 'ave to? Can't I come stay with ye' for a little while?" the Irishman begged, staring into Sam's eyes. "Please?"

Sam smiled. "How can I resist that face? Those beautiful eyes? Fine, we'll-" He was interrupted by the vibration of his phone on his hip. He looked down and checked the message. "Crap. Sebastian."

_Come to Scandals IMMEDIATELY. Bring the boy with you._

"What does it say?" Rory asked, noticing the worried look on his boyfriend's face. "Is e'erything okay?"

The vampire shook his head. "No. Sebastian wants me to come to the bar. And he wants me to bring you."

"Me? Why me? Do ye' think he knows about me ability?"

Sam thought a moment. "No, but I think he has a dangerous infatuation with you. He can't glamour you like he can other humans. He can have any human he wants with a look in his eyes, but you are a challenge and I know him well enough to know what he's up to."

"Well, he can try all he wants to, but he can't glamour me, and I find him rather repulsive. The only vampire I'll be going home with tonight, is ye'," Rory stated confidently. It was strange—ever since drinking Sam's blood, he seemed to be more assertive, more secure. It was as if something in the blood had stayed with him, more than it did with most humans. Whatever it was, it did something to him and so far it seemed for the better.

-ooo-

Sam reminded Rory to stay by his side as they entered the vampire club. It was crowded, as usual, with plenty of vampires dancing with humans—fangbangers—looking for a cheap thrill of going home with a vampire for sex. Sam rolled his eyes as they walked purposefully toward Sebastian's throne.

"Well, well, well, the view from up here is suddenly so much better," Sebastian cooed, eyeing Rory.

"Can we skip the banter? What do you want, Sebastian?" Sam demanded. "I need to get him home. Don't forget, he's a human and actually needs to sleep at night."

Sebastian didn't tear his gaze away from his prey. "It looks like you picked a rather rude vampire to be your companion," he teased, the corner of his mouth rising in a smirk.

"I picked a perfect companion, thank ye' very much," Rory stated confidently. "He's a perfect gentleman, to people who earn his respect."

The sheriff feigned surprise by the response. "Looks like you've grown sassier yourself since I last saw you. Incredibly sexy, don't you think Santana?"

"I'd find him much more entertaining if he were a woman. As far as I'm concerned, he's just a potato-eating foreigner with some sort of chip on his shoulder," the woman said sarcastically, sneering at the Irish boy. She was dressed in a tight red cocktail dress, except there were tiny studs lining the hems. When she moved, the lights in the ceiling would reflect and shimmer, drawing attention to her figure.

"Can the insults, Santana," Sam ordered. "I'll ask you again, what do you want?" he asked, returning his attention to Sebastian.

Sebastian sighed, annoyed. "Fine, since you don't want to humor me. We found a witness to the murder. I want you to see what you can get out of him," he said.

"Why me? Why don't you or your lackey do it?" the blonde asked, glaring at Santana.

"Because it's part of your assignment. I give orders; you follow them. Got it?" Sebastian's mouth was no longer smirking, but cold and serious.

Sam sighed. "Fine. But what do you want with Rory? Why does he need to be here? He needs to go home," he said, again annoyed.

"I want to look at him. He's beautiful," the sheriff stated, standing. He approached the teenager and stroked his cheek with the back of his hand. Rory jerked backward, glaring at the vampire.

"Don't touch me," the teen ordered harshly. "I'm not yours."

"Fine, fine, fine. I'll have you one way or the other, eventually," Sebastian declared, grinning. "Santana, bring in the witness. We'll be waiting in the office."

The Hispanic woman strolled off of the stage and through a door near the bar, Sebastian rising and leading the two younger men through a door and into his personal office. It was surprisingly ordinary, having no decoration, simply a desk, chairs, and a computer. Santana returned seconds later, pushing along a tall, bulky man who physically didn't look to be much older than Sam. Santana ushered him between the desk and chairs and then forced him down onto his knees.

"Okay, Samuel. Get to work. I want to know what he saw. I want to know what it was that killed that human," Sebastian demanded, sitting back down. Sam gave him one last glare before crouching down in front of the agitated prisoner.

"What's your name, kid?" Sam asked, trying to hold back the irritation in his voice.

The teen sneered at him, but answered his question anyway. "The name's David. Karofsky. I'm on the football team, so you dudes better know people  _will_  notice I'm missing. I'm the star linebacker."

"David, I'm going to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer me honestly," Sam said soothingly, ignoring the threat. He locked eyes with David, drawing the teen into him.

_Oh me God, this must be what a glamour looks like,_  Rory thought. He shivered as he watched Sam gazing at the boy, talking smoothly to him and asking questions. The entire time, Sebastian was staring at Rory, while Santana filed her nails, completely disinterested.

"What did the thing that attacked Joe Hart look like?" Sam asked. David opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly had a violent reaction to the query. He jumped up and began to thrash about angrily, yelling word salad as he did so.

Santana, rolling her eyes, shoved the boy backward, who reached out to grab for anything he could to stay on his feet as he tripped over himself. The only thing he grasped onto was Rory, whom he took down with him, the pair falling into a heap on the floor.

_A short being stood before Joe Hart, leaning forward and whispering into his ear. A flash of white and then she was standing behind him. A flash of white and she was touching the boy. A flash of white and she was whispering into his ear again. A flash of white and the boy began to move in an unnatural motion. A flash of white and Rory saw the gruesome death of Joe Hart._

Rory screamed out as the images flooded into his head. The cries of agony took everyone by surprise, David immediately jumping up and grunting, pulling his hands toward his chest. Sam rushed to Rory's side, crouching down and helping him into a sitting position.

"I saw it! I saw what happened!" Rory cried, tears flowing down his cheeks, sweat on his forehead, matting his hair to his head. "I saw it all, it was… it was horrible…"

"You saw it? You saw what he was thinking?" Sebastian asked, getting up from his chair and approaching the boy and his vampire companion, his expression no longer playful but something much harder. "How did you see what was in his head? Tell me, now!"

Sam exchanged worried glances at his charge. Apparently when David fell into Rory and grabbed him, their flesh connected, and Rory saw the memories the boy had ingrained into his head. The images were so horrifying that Rory forgot he was supposed to keep mum in front of Sebastian and Santana.

"I… I didn't… Sam?" Rory looked at Sam for support, wishing there was something he could do to erase what just happened.

"So it looks like there really is more to this boy than first glance. Fascinating. I must know more," Sebastian said slyly. He held out his hand to assist the teen, but Rory hesitated and shifted his gaze to his boyfriend, allowing Sam to help him up instead. The sheriff shook his head. "I don't know why you insist on resisting me. I may not be able to glamour you, but you have to admit my natural charm is just too much to pass by."

"Ye' 'ave no charm, sir," Rory said with disgust. "Ye'r a conceited jer-"

Sam squeezed Rory's hand, urging him to stop. "That's enough. He's still very powerful, and it's not a good idea to make him angry," he said in a hushed voice in Rory's ear.

"I think we need to explore this a little more, if you don't mind," Sebastian stated, smirking at Rory, who had an irritated look on his face. "Santana, show our guests to the lounge and see to it they're shown proper hospitality. A Type O for Mr. Evans, and a glass of red wine for our handsome mind-reading friend."

Annoyed but obedient, Santana walked away toward the door she had earlier dragged David out of. Sebastian, meanwhile, picked up David from the floor, staring into his eyes. Neither Sam nor Rory could hear what was being said, but David obediently walked toward the same room as the others, but took the side door in the small hallway, shutting it behind him.

"Somehow it's so much more satisfying when they lock themselves in their own prison," Sebastian said to himself, grinning. He stepped down from the stage, and strolled through the door into the hallway, closing it behind him.

-ooo-

Santana opened the door of Sebastian's private lounge, motioning for his two guests to sit down on the oversize black velvet sofa. "I'll be back with your drinks," she stated dryly. She gave them one last glare before exiting the room. It was larger than the office, with numerous curtains and fabrics on the walls, another throne-like chair for Sebastian to sit in, a sofa, mini-bar, pool table with red velvet covering, and a large sound system set into the wall, a widescreen flat panel television mounted above it.

"Don't be scared," Sam whispered to his young mate, who was already sweating nervously. "I can hear your heart racing. Calm down. Confidence. Don't let him get to you." He placed a gentle kiss on the boy's lips just as the door opened, Santana already returning with their drinks. She handed Sam a Tru Blood, popping the cap for him, and then a large glass of some red liquid to Rory.

The teen brought the glass to his nose, wrinkling it at the strange smell. "What is this?"

"Red wine, just like Sebastian ordered. It won't hurt you, it's just fermented grapes," Santana replied, rolling her eyes. "Don't worry, Sam, it's not enough to get him drunk. Such a shame, because that could be quite amusing," the woman said with a smirk.

"Santana, have you ever tried  _not_  being so unpleasant? I mean, I would think after a hundred and some odd years the bitter, sarcastic vampiress routine would have gotten a little stale," Sam fired at her, his voice laced with his own sarcasm.

The woman glared at him angrily. "Shove it, Samuel before I rip those trouty lips right off your face."

"They'd just grow back. Give it your best shot anyway," Sam replied arrogantly. "Where's Sebastian? We haven't got all night. I need to get him home," he added, nodding toward Rory.

Santana said nothing as she marched out of the room, the door reopening a moment later, Sebastian entering cheerfully.

"Well gentlemen, comfy?" he asked. Rory nodded, but Sam gave no indication that Sebastian had even spoke. "No need to be rude, Sam. I just want to ask some questions."

"Can we make this quick, Sebastian? Please? Honestly, I do need to get him home. Don't forget he's human; they sleep at night," Sam requested in a much more polite tone.

Sebastian smirked. "You said that earlier," he said, glaring at Sam. "Fine, fine. We'll keep it short. I wouldn't want him to miss out on his beauty sleep. After all, I want him to keep that lovely shine in his eyes." Rory blushed at the compliment. He had become used to Sam saying nice things to him, but another person—practically a stranger—making such pointed compliments was flattering but at the same time, unsettling. It was like receiving a compliment from the devil.

Before the sheriff could begin his interrogation, Rory spoke up. "I don't know why I can see what I see. I don't even really know how. I just know that when I touch someone's skin, I can read their memories. Like a switch goes off in me brain that plays the images in me head," he explained. "I don't know what else ye' expect me to tell ye'."

Sebastian pressed his fingertips together, bringing his hands in front of his mouth. "For some odd reason, I believe you. What I don't believe is that you're human."

Sam and Rory both exchanged puzzled glances at each other then turned to look at the sheriff.

"What do ye' mean, I'm not human? I am! Look at me. I'm alive, living and breathing and with a heartbeat and e'erything!" Rory insisted. "I  _am_  human! What else would I be?"

Sebastian smiled, waving his head from side to side as he thought deeply. "See, that's what I don't know. That's why I want to do some tests-"

"No! You're  _not_  experimenting on him!" Sam interrupted, standing up angrily. "He's not a lab rat!"

"Calm down, young man. Mind your manners," Sebastian scolded, motioning for Sam to sit back down. "All I want to do is have him mind-read a few people, that's all. What I want him to do, though, is to see how far he can push his mind into them. How far back he can see, how clearly, and more importantly, if he can alter or erase those memories."

"I ne'er tried any o'that before. I try not to read anything at all. Half the time when I do, it's things I don't want to see, like with that boy, David. I don't  _want_  to see into people's heads. I want to be able to just touch people without 'aving to concentrate on trying not to read them," Rory confessed, his eyes watering.

Sebastian's features softened. "I don't mean to make you cry," he said soothingly. "It's important you find out the extent of your ability, don't you think? It could be valuable."

Again Sam was angry and made an outburst. "You're not going to exploit him like some sort of lie detector or computer!" he yelled. "Don't you see how upset you're making him?"

The sheriff removed a handkerchief from his blazer pocket and handed it to the boy. "Here, wipe your tears. Don't think of this as experimentation, Mr. Flanagan. Think of it as me helping you explore what you can do. Maybe in the process you can even discover a way to shut it off more easily. Maybe you'll even discover you have much more in that pretty head of yours to offer. All I want in exchange is a few readings from some guests of mine. It won't take you any time at all, I'm sure."

Sam started to say something but Sebastian cut his eyes at him. "Yes, I know, he's yours. But don't forget, Samuel, that I  _am_  your sheriff, and as such I can order you to let me do as I wish with him. Don't make me go that route; it's so unpleasant." Sam pursed his lips in agitation, knowing that Sebastian had him locked into a corner.

"Let him think about it," Sam said pointedly. "Give him twenty-four hours to think about it and make up his mind. I'll bring him back here tomorrow night and he can give you an answer. Whatever he decides, respect it. Can you agree to that?"

Sebastian chuckled, amused. "Setting terms, are we? Mr. Evans, your boldness arouses me. What balls you must have to make such demands. It's not often someone is so forward. I'll humor you, child. If he decides not to cooperate, then I'll release him and allow him to go about his business. Otherwise, I get to conduct these exercises with him as I need to."

The sheriff stood up and reached out with his hand. Rory leaned forward to shake it, sealing the agreement. Sam stared at the elder vampire, disgusted. "Let's get out of here," Sam said, standing up and taking Rory by the hand. The boy stood up as well, anxiously following Sam as he headed out of the door, leaving both of their drinks untouched.

Santana quickly came back into the room, noting the wide grin on Sebastian's face. "What's so amusing?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing. Just a little deal I made. I guess I should have been slightly clearer on the terms. I may have agreed to leave the boy alone if he chose, but what I forgot to mention was that as a result, Sam will be punished for insubordination on behalf of his human," the man stated. Santana simply grinned, moving behind the man and draping her arms over his chest. She then dug her nails into his chest, tearing off his shirt and spinning him around in the chair to face her. He grinned as she crawled up onto his lap, feverishly tearing at his pants, hiking up her dress. He pulled down the top of the dress to reveal her breasts to him, extended his fangs, and then bit into one of them, eliciting a moan from the woman. That was just the beginning of the night-long love making session between maker and progeny.

 


	4. Season 1, Episode 4: History

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Author's Notes: So how are you guys liking the story so far? It was at this point that I really decided to go further with it than I had originally planned. I was just having way too much fun with it. I really like this chapter because as the title says, there is a lot of character backstory and history here and I really loved writing it and plan to expand on it more in the future. Enjoy!_  
>  ****  
> Beta Credit: TVTime

**Season 1, Episode 4: History**

Once Sam and Rory were in the vehicle and down the road a ways, Sam finally thought it was time to discuss Sebastian's proposal.

"You don't have to do it, Rory. He can't force you to play his little game," the older teen began. "You can't trust Sebastian for anything. I don't want to see you in danger." He slid his hand over to Rory's, grasping it and lacing their fingers together.

"I know. I 'ave to admit, though, I'm curious about me ability. I ne'er really understood it, and if I 'ave a chance to figure it out, I kind o'want to," the younger teen confessed, staring out the window as if too ashamed to look at his boyfriend.

Sam sighed quietly, inwardly frustrated. "It's your decision. I'll respect it, and I'll be there to protect you. You won't be left alone with them, not even for a second."

"Thank ye', Sam. I know ye'll keep me safe. I trust ye'," Rory replied. He squeezed Sam's hand and looked over at him. "Do I 'ave to go home already?"

Sam cocked his head. "It's really late. You need your rest, and won't your caretakers worry about you being out so late?"

Rory bit his bottom lip and stared down at his lap sheepishly. "I uh… I kind o'wanted to ask ye' about that…" Sam raised an eyebrow, wondering exactly what Rory was about to say. "Can ye', ye' know, make them  _not_  worry? Make it okay for me to be out so late, with ye' I mean."

"You want me to glamour them, is that right? Glamour them so they give you permission to be out all night and not worry about you, right?"

Rory blushed, suddenly embarrassed. He quietly nodded his head, ashamed he even thought of it let alone asked.

"You know that's a very dishonest thing to do. I don't like to glamour people if I don't have to. It's lying, and making them believe the lie against their will. You get that, right?" Sam asked, stealing a glance over at the unnerved boy.

"I… yes, I get it. I shouldn't 'ave asked. I just wanted them to not worry about me when I get home so late, so I can spend more time with ye'. The daytime isn't exactly an option for us," Rory explained quietly. "I understand, though."

Sam smiled innocently. "As long as you understand that, and are comfortable with that, I'll do it for you. As much as I care about you, though, I'm putting this one on  _you._  It's your choice to lie to them. If you're okay with that, if you accept the responsibility of it, I'll do it."

Rory gulped, still looking down. "I do. I understand. I don't like to lie, but… this is different. It's for  _us._  I'm tired of not being able to spend more time with ye', and this is the only way. They'd ne'er approve o'me being with a vampire."

"Okay. You decide when we do it, and I'll do it. But you have to look me in the eyes and ask me, tell me you want to do this. There's no risk of glamouring you, so I want to know you are a hundred percent sure before we go through with it," Sam said.

The young teen inhaled deeply as if he were Oliver Twist about to ask for more food. He waited until they were at a stoplight so Sam could gaze into his eyes. Rory stared right at him and said the words. "Sam, glamour me host family; help me lie to them, so I can stay out in the night with ye' and e'erything will be okay."

Sam smiled. "Yes, sir," he said lightly, leaning over for a quick kiss before the light turned green. "Don't make this a habit. This is  _one_  time. I don't like to do it," he reminded him.

"I know. I'm sorry, but I need ye' t'do this for me. I won't e'er ask ye' to do it again," the teen vowed.

"When do you want to do this?"

Rory thought a moment. "Tomorrow evening? Ye' can drive me home, and I can invite ye' in t'meet them, and then ye' can… ye' know, do ye'r spell."

"One of them will have to invite me in since it's  _their_  residence; you're just a visitor, but fine, we can do it tomorrow. It gives me time to think about what I'll say to them," Sam agreed.

One more turn and they had arrived at Rory's temporary home. Sam opened the car door for him to let him out, kissed him goodnight, and watched until he disappeared behind the door.

On the drive home, Sam couldn't stop thinking about the glamour. It was a talent that he had unfortunately mastered in his hundred fifty-three years as a vampire. When he first turned, like every newborn he went wild with his newfound power, glamouring women to sleep with him for over three decades before he finally made the choice to stop, and to try to become the person he was as a human. From then on, the only time he worked his skill was to feed on a human, allowing them to give themselves up to him and then erasing any memory of the entire incident, leaving them in their beds, weakened, but otherwise okay.

Sam tried to understand Rory's point. It was endearing that he was so set on spending as much time together as possible, but it also made him a little sad that Rory had to resort to lying to his caretakers for the freedom. As he agreed, however, he would do it just this once, just for him.

Just for him. Because Rory wanted it. Because it would make Rory happy. It had been over fifty years since Sam even partially felt love in his heart, and as fast as it all seemed to be going, he couldn't help but start to feel like he was perhaps feeling that strongly about the teenager. His feelings of affection and admiration were turning into something much stronger, and it genuinely made Sam feel good. He could actually feel his skin warm slightly, a phenomenon he didn't think was possible. Rory was definitely good for him. Sam smiled as he pulled into the driveway, got out of the car and went into his home. It was still early for him, so he went to his office for a while before retreating to a movie before it was time to tuck himself into his coffin for the daytime.

-ooo-

Rory sat nervously in the car, silently praying to himself that he was doing the right thing. He had always been taught that lying was never the right thing to do, but in this case, he felt like he was doing the Pierce family a favor by forcing them to not be concerned with his safety and whereabouts during the night.

Sam opened the door for him, and held out his hand to help him out, even though he didn't need it—it was simply the vampire's way of being a gentleman. They had agreed that they would mention neither the fact that Sam was a vampire, nor that the two of them were dating. That would only complicate things.

The younger teen had planned it out perfectly. He would pretend he forgot his key and ring the doorbell. One of the family would answer the door and Rory would introduce Sam, and with luck, whoever answered the door would invite him inside. After that, it was up to Sam to take the opportunity to 'charm' his way into clouding their minds.

Rory pushed the doorbell, hearing the chime in the house. It was only nine-twenty, and he was never expected to be home before that anyway. Mrs. Pierce answered the door, confused. "Rory dear, what are you ringing for? You have a key," she said softly.

"I know. I must 'ave left it on me nightstand. I'm sorry," he apologized. Mrs. Pierce smiled sweetly and nodded. "Oh, this is me friend, Sam. He gave me a ride home t'night."

"How lovely of him," she replied, not taking the bait like Rory had hoped. She looked up at the man and when she did, she made eye contact just long enough for Sam to capture her gaze.

"Hello, Mrs. Pierce. I'm Sam, his friend. Will you invite me in?" Sam said in an almost arousing tone of voice. Rory bit his bottom lip to keep quiet. He realized that Sam had already begun his 'magic'.

"Oh yes, of course. Come on in, honey," the woman said, standing aside and motioning for the pair to come inside. Sam blinked his eyes, breaking the connection. He had no desire to control these people's minds any longer than he had to. "Hon, we have a guest!" she called out to her husband.

Mr. Pierce came into the hall, yawning. "Who came over at this hour? Oh, hello," he said, first addressing his wife, and then taking notice of the blonde stranger. "Who are you and why are you in my house?"

"Oh honey don't be rude, he's Rory's friend. He gave him a ride home and I thought it polite to ask him in for a moment," Mrs. Pierce scolded.

"Sorry, just been a bad day at work and all. Didn't mean to be so rude," the man said, embarrassed that he had just been reprimanded by his wife in front of a complete stranger. He held out his hand to shake, hoping to make amends.

Sam locked eyes with him right away, capturing his stare. "I'm Sam, Rory's friend. I've come to talk to you and your wife about his well being. Shall we go to the living room?"

Without question, the Pierces led the boys into the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Pierce sat on the couch, facing the boys in the armchairs. Fortunately, the adults were sitting close together, and Sam had glamoured multiple people at once several times before, in his 'wild days'. He leaned into them and took their eyes, urging them both to stare into his own at the same time.

"You both know that Rory is a big boy. He's old enough to take care of himself," Sam began. Both of his 'victims' slowly nodded their heads in understanding. "You have no need to worry about him when he isn't home. In fact, you don't need to worry at all, because he will always be safe," he went on, pausing to let the glamour take hold in their heads.

Rory watched, unsure if he was more frightened of what Sam was doing, right in front of him, or terrified of himself for letting his boyfriend go through with this at his request.

"Rory will always be safe, because he will be with me. I am like his bodyguard, completely devoted to protecting him from harm. Rory has permission from now on to stay out as late as he wishes, and will always return home by dawn."

The Pierce family nodded their heads again then repeated in unison, "Rory will be safe. We have no reason to worry. He can stay out as long as he wants to. He will be safe with you."

Sam smiled, satisfied that his suggestions had taken hold. He let the glamouring settle into their minds before he blinked his eyes, severing the connection.

Sam stood up, holding out his hand. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you both, but I really have to be getting home. It's late."

"Rory dear, are you joining him?" Mrs. Pierce asked innocently. Rory nodded slowly, rising from the armchair. "Well make sure you're home no later than six in the morning. You need your sleep before you have to go to work, sweetheart."

"Yes, ma'am," the teen replied, saying nothing else.

"You two have fun. I'd say be safe but I know he'll be fine, right Sam?" Mr. Pierce said, his entire demeanor having changed from when he first entered the room.

"Yes, sir. He will be safe and sound," Sam replied. He took Rory's hand and led him out of the front door. The two Pierces acted as if nothing had happened, nor noticed that the boys were holding hands, as if they had simply met Rory's friend and nothing more.

When they got in the car, Sam looked over at his boyfriend, who was staring off into space.

"What's wrong? I did what you asked," Sam inquired as he started the car. His tone was flat, obviously dismayed at what he had just done.

"I guess I'm just amazed," the boy admitted. "I didn't expect it to go so fast. To be so easy like that."

Sam huffed lightly. "Easy for you, because you didn't have to do it. I told you I don't approve of the idea anymore, but I did it for you. You got what you wanted, and now it's time I got what  _I_  want."

Rory suddenly looked worried, his eyes widening.  _Oh me God, what does he mean by that? Is he ready for us to… do it?_

Sam chuckled. "What are you so afraid of? I just want you to sing to me."

"Sing to ye'?"

"I know you have a beautiful voice. I've heard you quietly singing to yourself at work, and when you're waiting for your ride. It's quiet, but I know it's good. I want you to sing to me, in return for granting your favor," Sam stated with a smile.

"Okay. But do we 'ave to do it here? Can we go somewhere that's a little more… romantic?" Rory asked, blushing in the darkness.

Sam started to drive down the street, pausing for a stop sign before continuing. "I know a place we can go that's just right. I can listen to your beautiful voice in solitude, with nobody to interrupt us."

Rory smiled, happy to focus on something other than the dirty deed he had just made his boyfriend do for him. He owed it to Sam to do what he asked, even though he knew Sam wouldn't force him to. It would be his first time singing for a special someone, but he was glad it was Sam. It just seemed  _right._

-ooo-

"Here?" Rory asked, looking around. Sam had driven the car to a park, the pair of them getting out and walking deep into the woods. Had he been alone, or with anyone else, Rory would have felt very nervous in the woods at night, but with Sam he felt completely safe.

In the middle of the woods was a clearing—a lake with a pier that at the end, was home to a gazebo. The moonlight shone down, reflecting on the still lake water, giving them just enough light to guide their way down the dock and to the gazebo.

"Yes, here," Sam answered, sitting down on one of the benches. "This is a good spot, because your voice will echo into the night air, it's otherwise silent here, and the scenery is gorgeous." He smiled as he gazed at his boyfriend, the moonlight catching his face.

"O-okay. I, uh, I don't know what to sing. What do ye' want me to sing for ye'?" the teen asked, blushing. He wondered for a moment if Sam could see in the dark the way a cat could, if Sam could see him blushing in the darkness.

Sam thought a moment. "Sing something… that's close to your heart," he answered, grinning at the cheesiness of the instruction. When he saw the slightly confused look on the boy's face, he gave him something more to work with. "Pick something that means something to you. Something that says how you feel. Something that reflects your emotions."

Rory was silent as he scanned his mind for such a song. He knew so many songs, but he had never thought before about any of them having meaning, let alone something so personal. Finally, something came to mind. It was old, but it had been a favorite of his when he was a young kid, even though at that time it was already out of date. His friends would chide him for the artist—The Backstreet Boys—but that didn't matter.

"Do ye' want me to just stand here, or sit next to ye', or…?" Rory asked nervously. In glee club it was either performed in front of the choir room for the rest of the club, or it was part of an onstage performance. In this case, he had no idea exactly what Sam wanted him to do.

Sam chuckled. "Do whatever comes natural. Just close your eyes, start singing, and however your body feels like moving, it will do it," Sam replied. The young teen nodded, swallowing back his nervousness. He stood against the side of the gazebo, facing out toward the water, looking up at the moonlight. Finally he opened his mouth to sing the words.

_Open up your heart to me_

_And say what's on your mind, oh yes_

_I know that we have been through so much pain_

_But I still need you in my life this time_

At the beginning of the chorus, he turned around, facing Sam's smiling face, looking deep into his eyes. Eyes that should have been lifeless, but were anything but.

_And I need you tonight_

_I need you right now_

_I know deep within my heart_

_It doesn't matter if it's wrong or right_

_I really need you tonight_

By now, Rory was becoming more comfortable with his performance. He slowly started to walk away from the rail and toward Sam, still keeping his gaze.

_I figured out what to say to you_

_But sometimes the words they, they come out so wrong, always they do_

_And I know in time that you will understand_

_That what we have is so right this time_

When Rory hit the chorus this time, he sat down next to his boyfriend, leaning his head against Sam's shoulder. He sang the words with such conviction, such genuine meaning, that he began to tear up.

_And I need you tonight_

_I need you right now_

_I know deep within my heart_

_It doesn't matter if it's wrong or right_

_All those endless times we tried to make it last forever more_

_And baby I know_

_I need you_

_I know deep within my heart_

_It doesn't matter if it's wrong or right_

_I really need you, oh_

_I need you tonight (I need you, oh I need you baby)_

_I need you right now (It's gotta be this, it's gotta be this)_

_I know deep within my heart_

_No, it doesn't matter if it's wrong or it's right_

_All I know is baby_

_I really need you tonight_

Rory trailed off the last words, leaning over until he was lying with his head in Sam's lap, tears having finally taken over. It was a very quiet sobbing, the kind that was happy, not sad. Sam simply ran his fingers through the boy's hair, cooing about how wonderful the song was.

"That one must really mean something to you if it brings up tears," the blonde observed as he continued to stroke the boy's hair.

Rory sniffled, smiling, his head still in Sam's lap. "It does. It says exactly how I feel. About… about ye'."

The vampire shifted the teen back up so that he was sitting, facing him. Sam leaned in, keeping Rory's face still with a finger under his chin, and pressed his lips firmly against the young teen's. Of course it was nowhere near their first time kissing, but there was something different about this kiss. It was innocent; it was simple, but it said so much.

They sat there for several minutes, Sam's arms wrapped around his young boyfriend, occasionally taking a moment to gently kiss him..

It was getting late, and Sam could sense Rory's need for rest. He could feel the slower breathing, the relaxed blood pressure. "Do you want to come home with me tonight?" he asked softly.

Rory lifted his head and looked at Sam. "Yes. I do, I really do."

Sam smiled and kissed the top of the boy's head. "Good. I just want to have you there with me, watch you fall asleep, watch you dream. Even though by dawn, I have to hide away from the sun. That's when you'll need to go home."

"Okay. Will ye' sleep next to me? Or… I guess ye' don't get tired right now, but will ye' lay with me?" the teen asked.

"Yes. Yes, I will. I'll tuck you in and lay with you until it's time for dawn."

"Ye' won't be bored, me just laying there?" Rory asked.

Sam shook his head. "No. I'll watch you sleep, and I have a book I can read as well. I'll be just fine. I'm just like you—I don't have to be having an adventure to be content."

As they walked out of the gazebo, neither of them mentioned to the other that they could hear the faint sound of a woman, singing, off in the distance.

By the time they arrived at Sam's house, Rory was already half asleep, barely able to keep his eyes open.

-ooo-

Sam carried Rory into his house and up to the bedroom. It was a room he hadn't actually used, ever, but not long after moving in, he had decided that he wanted his house to  _look_  like a home, and part of that look was standard bedrooms. He laid Rory down on the king-sized mattress, positioning the pillow under his head just right. He gazed down at the slumbering boy, beautiful in his innocence.

The vampire had considered taking Rory's jeans off at least, for comfort, but he didn't want the teen to think he had been violated, or barriers crossed. He settled for removing his shoes, which he placed at the foot of the bed. Sam carefully sat on the edge of the bed, bringing his legs up, and sliding up next to his boyfriend, wary of waking him. He turned off the small lamp on the bedside table, leaving the room in complete darkness as he listened to the steady rhythm of a human heartbeat right next to him.

-ooo-

Rory only slept about two hours before waking again. He found that Sam had stayed right next to him the entire time, a Kindle Fire in his hands as he read from the glowing screen. "I didn't disturb you, did I?" Sam asked as Rory sat up, scooting back until he was right next to the man.

"No, not at all. I just woke up," Rory replied with a shrug. He peeked over at the book Sam was reading, noticing that the font size was much larger than a normal book. "Why are the words so big?"

If vampires could blush, Sam would have been a deep red at that moment. He clicked off the power button, setting the reader on the nightstand. "I have trouble with the words," he admitted. Wanting to be able to see his boyfriend in the light, Sam reached aside and clicked the lamp on. The room filled with a soft glow, just enough light to feel romantic.

"What d'ye' mean? Like ye' need glasses or something?"

Sam shook his head. "No. I uh… see, when I was still human, I couldn't read at all. I tried. I even got in trouble over it. Nobody could seem to understand that I just could  _not_  read. I learned decades later that I have a condition called dyslexia, which jumbles up the letters sometimes and can make it harder to read. It's easier to deal with now, but back then they didn't know what that was. They just thought I was too stupid for schooling, so my parents took me out of school and taught me everything about the farm instead."

Rory listened intently. It was a strange concept to think that a vampire could have a reading disorder, especially since they had special healing abilities. Apparently, however, that didn't 'heal' everything. When he heard Sam call himself stupid, that got to him.

"Sam, ye' aren't stupid! Don't e'er say that again!" the teen burst out. "It's not ye'r fault they didn't know back then. If they did, ye' could 'ave gotten help and stayed in school."

Sam stroked Rory's hair with one hand. "Don't worry. I don't think I'm stupid anymore. I did for a long time though, even after I became vampire. It wasn't until the early nineteen-hundreds that I think I started to actually get some help."

"What did ye' do?"

The vampire chuckled. "I did what any sensible adult would do. I got a tutor," he replied. He chuckled again as he noticed Rory's bewildered look. "I did. It was another vampire—a woman—and in her human life she had been a teacher. She was much older than me by eighty years, but she was patient and understood what was going on with me."

"That was really nice o'her. Did ye' 'ave to pay her? How did ye' 'ave money then, were ye' rich?" the inquisitive young man asked.

Sam grinned. "No, I didn't pay her. Not in the usual sense. See… she and I had a… special relationship. It was like what people call now 'friends with benefits'."

A wave of understanding crossed over the human's features. "Ohhh, so ye' were friends, and ye' got the benefit o'her teaching. That makes sense. So I guess in a way, we're like that too. I get the benefit o'ye'r protection."

Sam swallowed to keep from laughing. "Uh, that's not what I meant. I meant that we were friends, with the benefit of a sexual relationship as well. We didn't date, we simply 'hung out' together, as they say. That included her teaching me. A lot of times we ended up doing many  _other_  things as well. But it was purely friendship."

"So where is she now?" Rory asked, a tiny ping of jealousy hitting him in the chest.

"Gone. She met the true death in the sixties. I haven't spoken of her since until just now," Sam replied, a sad tone in his normally mellow voice. He felt Rory's hand roam over his lap and clasp his own hand, locking their fingers together.

"True death… Is that when a vampire is… killed for good?"

Sam nodded slowly. "Yes. Vampires are considered already dead, so when a vampire is destroyed, it's called the true death. I hope you never have to witness that—it's a very gruesome affair."

"How… how does a vampire die? Get destroyed…" Rory went on.

Sam smirked. "You realize that we don't want our secrets common knowledge. We can be killed with a wooden stake through the heart, wooden bullets, decapitation, silver, sunlight—the ultraviolet light in particular. I know that I can trust you to learn our secrets." None of his words were questions—they were stated as fact, as if Sam already knew that Rory understood the bond between them. "Well, silver is a little different. Bullets are more dangerous, and any silver directly in the heart will kill us. Again. Any other time though, it just hurts. A lot. It melts our flesh and burns and it's kind of like what heated acid would be for a human."

"There's no coming back after that is there? No way to stop it, or reverse it? Make ye' alive again?"

The blonde shook his head. "I'm afraid not. That's why it's the true death. There is no coming back. In short, we sort of burst into a messy bunch of blood and tissue. There's no way to come back from that. It'd be like trying to make a human come back to life after they make a short visit to the food processor."

Rory winced at the mental image. "Okay, I get it. No reviving, so nobody better come near ye' with any silver, wood, or anything else that can hurt ye', or else I'll… I'll make sure they regret it!"

Sam laughed openly. "I admire your loyalty, but I think I'll be fine."

Rory snuggled up against Sam's side, sighing. He was feeling tired again, but he loved talking to Sam, especially learning about his past. "Sam, will ye' tell me how it happened now? How ye were made into a vampire, I mean," he asked pleadingly.

"Are you sure you want to hear it? It's not the most pleasant story, and I don't want you to worry or have nightmares," Sam explained. He waited for Rory to respond in the affirmative before finally going through with his story.

-ooo-

Sam Evans wiped the sweat off his brow as the boiling sun beat down on his bare torso. He had been chopping wood for the better part of the afternoon, piling it up next to the farmhouse. He waved at his mother, who was hanging wet clothes to dry on the clothesline.

Mr. Evans had been toiling away in the barn, the sound of hammering echoing out through the door. He had been repairing a broken stable where something had snuck into the barn and broken down a gate, getting to one of the cows. Whatever had snuck in had done a number on the poor cow, leaving it broken in a heap, yet oddly enough there was very little blood around.

There were rumors going around about livestock in the county suddenly dying, some in rather gruesome ways, others looking like they just collapsed in place. In every case there was little to no blood in the vicinity, leaving no evidence behind. Every single farmer had experienced either a loss of an animal, or some sort of vandalism, so everyone was under the impression that the guilty party was either a very strong, very clever animal, or an outsider—a human who had no business in the area whatsoever.

A few hours later, the sun began to set, and it was time for Mrs. Evans to prepare dinner. The previous day, her husband had gone hunting and secured a deer, which they would be eating for dinner that very night.

"Sam, honey, take your brother out back, the pair of you wash up. I'll tend to your sister after supper," Mrs. Evans instructed as her son stood in the doorway.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, his little brother Steven darting through the kitchen and past his brother into the yard. Sam sighed and turned around, chasing after the child. It was a game between them—Steven would run around the yard trying to dodge his older brother, refusing to go out back until he was captured. When he finally snagged the boy, he wrangled him over his shoulder and to the small shed in the back.

The shed wasn't really a shed, it was more like two walls and a roof, set against the house. A hand-cranked water pump was accessible from the back where Sam pumped water into the large, tin basin they used for their bathing.

"Alright kid, bathtime," Sam teased, unclasping the buttons on Steven's overalls. "Off with the knickers and get in the tub," he instructed. The boy did as he was told, a scowl across his face as he stepped gingerly into the basin, the cold water sending shivers up and down his spine. "Quit whinin', we all gotta do it. No such thing as a heated water pump," he said, taking off his own trousers and stepping into the water.

Steven grabbed the cloth hanging on a nail in the wooden wall while Sam took the bar of homemade soap sitting in the small tin bucket hanging on a nail on the other side. Sam knelt down in the bin in front of his brother, taking the cloth and soap and lathering the boy up.

"Okay kid, your favorite part," the teen teased sarcastically. He took a small bucket and dipped it in the tub, then dumped it over Steven's body, dousing his head and rinsing the suds from his small frame. He squealed in protest, but got his revenge when he watched Sam have to dump the bucket over his own head after washing himself off. The boys splashed back and forth a little, but didn't want to waste too much of the water. When they had enough, Sam stepped out of the basin and took another, larger fabric from yet another nail and dried himself off before pulling his trousers back on.

"Come on Sammy, hurry up! I'm cold!" Steven whined. Sam smirked at him before helping him step out of the basin and wrapping him up in the cloth. When he was dried off, Sam helped him fasten his overalls back on.

"We better get inside. It's dark and I bet supper's almost ready. I can smell it," the teen declared. Just as they stepped out of the shed and into the yard, they were greeted by a tall figure standing between the house and the woods.

The stranger was dressed in unusual clothes—lots of tattered fabrics sewn together in a patchwork outfit that was rather ugly. He had long hair pulled back in a plait that reached his waist, and there was something about his eyes. They seemed to glisten in the moonlight.

"Can I help you, stranger?" Sam asked, taking Steven's hand and ushering him to stand behind him. The figure said nothing, but continued to glare right at Sam. "Look, you need to get off our property. Go on up to town a few miles, get a hotel or a brothel and keep out of trouble, ya hear?"

The figure shook its head slowly before finally speaking. "No. I have no intention of going anywhere. Not yet," he said in a slow, deep tone. Sam gritted his teeth, letting go of Steven's hand.

"Get father, tell him to bring his rifle," Sam ordered quietly. Steven turned to run to the house but was stopped in his tracks, a brief gust of wind rushing past the startled teenager. He turned and saw the stranger standing between his brother and the house.

"Now now, don't be so hasty. We aren't done here yet," the man hissed, looking down at Steven with hungry eyes. Sam didn't say anything but instead stepped forward and threw his fist through the air, attempting to punch the intruder. Instead, he hit nothing at all.

"Hmm, too slow it seems," the stranger teased.

"Steven! Go! Get help!" Sam barked. Steven wasted no time, making a mad dash for the door. Sam could hear the boy screaming to his parents, he could hear his father shouting orders to his wife to keep their daughter and son safe. Mr. Evans purposefully walked out of the door, holding his rifle, ready to shoot.

"Get out of here!" Mr. Evans demanded. "Get out before I blow your damned head off!" He aimed the rifle carefully, staring through the sight right at the man.

The stranger scoffed. "Give it your best shot, old timer," he said. Mr. Evans didn't need anymore of an invite, and pulled the trigger.

When the smoke cleared from the gunshot, the stranger had moved with intense speed behind Sam, holding the teen's arm behind him.

"I like your bravery, old man," the stranger taunted further. "You want to protect your family. Admirable. Unfortunately, you took a shot at me. You tried to take off my head. I think in return, I'll take something of yours."

Sam was struggling hard, but the stranger had a firm grip on his arm and had wrapped his patchwork-covered arm across Sam's chest. "The worst pain a parent can feel is the loss of a child." The stranger glared at Mr. Evans with an evil glint in his eye. "I want  _this_  one."

"No! Spare him and take me instead! If a price must be paid—" Mr. Evans shouted, but it was too late. The stranger had shifted his hands around, holding Sam's head down, exposing his neck. Within a nanosecond, the man had lowered his head and was sucking on the teen's neck, dark liquid pooling around his lips.

Mr. Evans was frozen in horror. He told his body to move, to help his son, but something was keeping him in place. Fear? He wasn't sure, all he knew was that this intruder had begun to drink the blood of his first born child, the sound of Sam's screams filling the night sky.

-ooo-

Rory sat with his jaw open, his eyes wide as Sam described the horrible event of the night he was turned. He was shivering, not from cold but from fear. The very idea that his boyfriend, a man who was now incredibly strong, had been overpowered and taken against his will was frightening. He couldn't imagine Sam in a state of weakness at all.

"Do you want me to go on? I can tell you're upset," Sam asked, pulling the teen closer to him.

"No, go on. I want to hear. It's part o' ye'r past," Rory confirmed. Sam nodded and picked up where he had left off.

-ooo-

When Sam awoke, he saw nothing but rock around him. A cave. He was in a cave. Through the opening he could see trees and off in the distance, the moonlight.

He felt a throbbing pain in his neck, his body weak and his head spinning. He tasted something foreign on his tongue. It had a coppery flavor, like metal had been placed in his mouth. He raised his hand to his face, feeling some sort of stickiness around his mouth. When he pulled pack his hand, he could see there was a dark stain on his fingers.

Before he could even think, he felt a piercing pain in his neck, hands on his body, and the little bit of strength he had remaining left his body, as he once again passed out.

When Sam awoke the next time time, he felt heaviness on his body. He opened his eyes but couldn't see. He could smell though. He inhaled and felt soil enter his nose. As his body became more aware of itself, he could feel against his skin the sensation of dirt. He was lying in dirt. No, he was  _buried_  in dirt.

The soil was loose enough for him to move his arms, and he began to dig his way out. When he finally felt air, he climbed out of the hole he had been buried in, covered in granules, looking around for any sign of what had happened to him.

He saw the cave not far ahead, so he slowly crept through the woods, stealing a glance into the opening. He felt a cold breeze and then heard a whisper in his ear.

"Welcome to hell, kid," the voice laughed. "We're going to be together a long, long time."

-ooo-

Rory sat in the bed, staring at Sam, who had streaks of crimson running down his cheeks from his eyes.

"Oh me god, Sam. I… I don't know what t'say," Rory murmured. He reached out and wiped away the disgusting tears from his boyfriend's face, not even acknowledging the fact that he had cried blood. He then threw himself forward into Sam's arms, sobbing into his chest. "I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry," he whispered.

Sam stroked the teen's head, holding him tight. "It's alright. It's a hard memory, even after all these years, but it's what happened. Now you know. Now you know just how cruel the world can be, and why I want to keep you safe."

Rory pulled back, sniffling. "I'm sorry for asking ye' t'tell me. I'm so sorry!" he cried. "It's so awful, nobody deserves that kind o'thing to happen! Such a nightmare, Sam. Ye' didn't deserve that…"

"There's no changing what happened. After that, I went through a lot of negative things in my life, things I will never be proud of. Things I feel nothing but shame for. Murder. Rape," Sam confessed. "But over the years I found my humanity again, and I knew that even though I had something very terrible happen to me, I didn't have to let it destroy who I was. I had to become a vampire, but I did  _not_  have to become a monster."

"Ye'… ye' raped people? Murdered people?" Rory asked, sitting back, his face going blank.

Sam hung his head. "Yes. I did. I'm very ashamed of that. It's not who I am. It's not how I was raised. Not as a human, anyway. It's a very difficult thing, suddenly becoming vampire. It's not like puberty where just your voice changes and hair grows in strange places," he chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood with a joke.

"Well then, what  _is_  it like?" Rory asked, almost wishing he hadn't as soon as the words left his mouth.

"Honestly? I hardly remember most of it. The beginning, that is. There's images, flashes of memories, but nothing as vivid as what I remember about the day I was changed. I remember I had an insatiable hunger I couldn't control. I remember literally feeling like I was going insane. I was angry and confused, and my maker, he was far from understanding. Everything he taught me was about killing. And raping. He had a sick obsession with rape. Especially children. I refused to be a part of any of that, even in my worst days. We parted ways eventually; he releasing me as a free vampire. That was when we had our big disagreement, when I declared I wasn't going to abide by his way anymore. "

The young teen listened silently to the revelations. He had never expected Sam to have been capable of rape. Feeding on humans, he expected that. Tru Blood was a recent invention, so there was no way around that before its appearance. He had even accepted the fact that over a hundred years, Sam had been far from virginal, but the idea that he had  _raped_  people was horrifying.

"You're disturbed. I can see it in your face, even with hardly any light. You're scared. Disgusted," Sam stated sorrowfully. "I can't say that I blame you. I would rather you know now, however, than be drawn too deeply into things and find out later."

Rory looked up at Sam, catching his green eyes. "Sam, I… Ye' promise me that isn't who ye' are anymore. At all. Promise me that person is gone. Tell me to believe that ye' went from being made right to being who ye' are now. Make me think that," he begged.

"Even if I could glamour you into thinking that, I wouldn't do it. I could never bring myself to. I want you to know the real me, and still be able to lo-" Sam paused as he realized the word about to slip from his lips.

"Love ye'?" Rory finished for him.

Sam nodded. "Yes. Yes, you're right. I don't want you to fall in love with a fantasy, with lies. I want to be loved for who I am, troubled past and all. I can't ask you to forgive the horrible things I've done, but I can ask you to trust me now, to believe in me, that I am a changed man from those days." He stared deep into Rory's eyes, a tactic often used for glamouring, but Rory was immune, and Sam was incredibly thankful for that.

Rory sighed deeply. "This is a lot to take in. I 'ave strong feelings for ye', Sam. I want to believe in ye'. I guess the best I can do is let ye'r past be ye'r past, and care for who ye' are now." He blinked his eyes, looking almost mournful. Sam wanted to hug him, to kiss him, but hesitated. He didn't want the boy to feel influenced by physical sensations.

"What are ye' waitin' for, Sam? I said I want ye' t'let go o'ye'r past. Live now. Be the man ye' want to be loved. Be that man. Let me fall in love with him. With ye'." Rory gazed into Sam's eyes again, pleading for the vampire to understand what he was trying to get across. "Stop waiting. Hold me, and tell me about ye'r new life. The good parts. Tell me the things ye'  _are_  proud of. Things ye' aren't ashamed of. Put the devils behind ye', and move on."

Sam wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, blood-soaked tears filling his eyes. "For sixteen you are so poetic and smart. Anyone ever tell you that?"

Rory scoffed. "No, ne'er. They all say I'm a big, clumsy idiot."

Sam kissed him on the forehead. "Well they're wrong. Because in a hundred and seventy years I haven't heard anyone say something so genuinely wise as what you just said to me," he admitted.

Rory yawned, hugging the vampire tightly again. "I'm so tired. Ye'r stories are o'erwhelmin', but I'm glad ye' shared. Next time, tell me about the woman who taught ye' to read. That has t'be a happy memory."

"Sure. I'd love to." Sam smiled and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was incredibly late. "Maybe you should try to get back to sleep. I'll get you home just before dawn, and then I'll see you again when the sun sets."

Rory snuggled up next to Sam, the pair of them sliding down into a lying position, spooning.

"I really do 'ave a lot of special feelings for ye'. They get stronger e'ery time I see ye'. I care about ye, so much."

"I do, too. About you. I don't want you to say the words until you feel them though."

Rory didn't reply, but just nodded his head against Sam's chest. Sam didn't have to specify what words he meant—Rory already knew. When he fell asleep, he dreamt about Sam's story of being turned, except in his dream, Sam fought back and never changed. In his dream, Sam was still an innocent farmboy, like he should have been. When he woke up in his room the next morning, he wondered to himself if Sam had never been made vampire, would he ever have found someone to be with? Would either of them? He decided that they would never know, but all that mattered was that they had found each other now, and things were going well. The present was what mattered. Even without glamour, Rory could believe that. The present was what they had, and the present was what made the future.

-ooo-

Santana sat on the arm of Sebastian's throne on Scandals' stage, her arm draped around him, her fingers toying with the man's shirt collar. "What exactly do you plan to do with this boy?" she asked with an almost disgusted tone.

Sebastian smirked as he answered her. "Nothing serious. I simply wanted an excuse to get him alone, away from Sam. I'll get him to touch a couple of humans to 'test out' his whatever it is he does, but mostly I just want him to myself for a while. I want to bed him, and I want to know what the extent of these powers are. They may be of use to me."

"You are sneaky, Sebastian. You just better hope he doesn't have any other abilities that might surface, and you better be careful  _who_  he touches," Santana warned.

"You think I don't know that?" Sebastian hissed, shrugging her off of him. "I won't be letting him into  _my_  head, nor should you let him into yours." He sat up straight and sneered, unsure if he was more irritated with himself for letting his libido overpower his common sense, or with Santana for bringing that point to light. "Go man the bar or something," he ordered, wanting to be alone for a while.

"Fine," she replied, annoyed. She got up off the chair and strutted over to the bar, purposely exaggerating her movements as if trying to draw the attention of any male, or female, in range of sight.

Sebastian checked his watch, an expensive gold piece with a crystal face. Sam was due to show up with Rory any moment. He'd call Santana over if he needed help tending to Sam. He had a feeling the young vampire wouldn't take kindly to the idea of Rory going anywhere with him alone.

-ooo-

Sam pulled into the crowded parking lot of Scandals, eyeing the door as if it were a gateway into hell. "You don't have to do this you know," he said reassuringly.

Rory smiled faintly. "No, it'll be okay. Besides, I 'ave ye' there to protect me from big bad Sebastian and Santana."

The vampire parked the car, getting out to open the door for his protégé. He gave him a quick kiss and took his hand. "Just remember, don't let Sebastian intimidate you. He can't glamour you, and you're mine, so he can't lay a finger on you."

The teen nodded, taking a deep breath as they entered the bar. As usual, it was dimly lit with lots of scantily clad men and women dancing about, the little bit of clothing they were wearing consisting of leather and chrome-plated chains. Overall, the people looked trashy with their excessive black makeup, poorly dyed hair in ridiculous styles, and chrome body piercings in places metal did not belong in.

"These people are disgusting, Sam," Rory whispered. "It's like a horror movie mixed with porn."

Sam giggled. "Believe it or not, this is tame for vampires. There's a bar in Louisiana that's a pure sex club. Ropes and chains and slings and all kinds of rubber sex toys and lots and lots of raunchy bondage and orgies." Rory looked even more disgusted than he had before, almost like he might throw up.

"Ha ha, don't worry, not my kind of place. I went there once, in 1980, and after walking through the door I looked around the room and left. I hadn't heard anything about the club before other than that it was a bit on the wild side. It was gross. I was reformed by then of course," Sam explained. Rory seemed relieved knowing that Sam hadn't participated in such raunchy activities.

As they approached Sebastian's throne, the man was already grinning like a cat, eyeing his prey. "Hello Samuel. Rory."

"Hi," Sam said with a hint of irritation. Rory greeted him back as well, keeping the nervousness out of his voice.

"Let's get down to business," Sebastian announced. "I'll be taking the boy with me, to meet a few of my human compatriots and a doctor of the supernatural variety. I believe you know her—Shannon, the bouncer. She's very gifted. She doesn't read those science textbooks out of boredom."

"I'm coming with you," Sam replied, his eyes as cold as steel as he stared at Sebastian.

The sheriff scoffed loudly. "No. I don't need your interference with his concentration. You can wait in my office, with Santana."

"I don't think so. Either I go with him, or we leave right now," Sam declared icily.

Rory turned to Sam and put his hand on the man's chest. "It's fine. I'll be alright. Remember what ye' said to me. I'll be safe." His pleading eyes told Sam that he was confident in his decision, ready to face what lay ahead.

"Fine. If you're not back in fifteen minutes, I'm coming to get you whether Sebastian likes it or not," Sam replied.

Sebastian snapped his fingers and within a split second, Santana had arrived at their location. "Take care of Mr. Evans here."

Santana took Sam by the arm, which he shrugged away. She grinned, leading him to the office through the employees only door. "Come on, he'll be fine," she said, annoyed. "For a hundred-seventeen you're such a baby sometimes."

Sebastian giggled to himself as he listened to Santana's insult. He stood up and took Rory by the hand, leading him to the door of the basement. Rory tore his hand away with a grunt. "Don't touch me."

"I'm not going to hurt you. Come on, follow me." Sebastian said. Rory followed him down the stairs into a rather creepy looking room. It was large and concrete all around. A large, iron carousel outfitted with shackles along the rim occupied the center of the basement.

Rory looked around nervously, pausing in front of the stairs and even starting to back up a little. "What is all this?"

"Oh, don't mind all that," Sebastian chuckled. "None of it's for you. It's just nice and quiet down here, so you won't be interrupted. Now, our guests should be here any moment."

The teen assumed Sebastian was referring to whomever it was he wanted Rory to test out his ability on. He heard a steel door squeal as it opened and four people came out, three of them in chains around the wrists and ankles.

"What is this!?" Rory shouted, suddenly outraged. "Ye' can't keep people locked up in here like animals! Let them out, right now!" he demanded.

Sebastian placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Calm down. It's for their own safety. See, they're a little... crazed. One of our regulars found them in the woods, blubbering like idiots."

Rory took a closer look at the three captives, and then he suddenly recognized them. "Oh me god! I know these boys!" he exclaimed. The sheriff raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "They attacked me, and Sam saved me from them, but I 'aven't seen them since."

"Ah Samuel, ever the hero," Sebastian remarked sarcastically. "Whatever happened to these idiots wasn't something done by a vampire. I have a feeling they may have been hypnotized or something by whatever it is that killed that high school student."

"So what d'ye' want with me?" Rory asked harshly.

"I want you to see if you can dig around in their heads, see what you can pull out of there. Maybe a memory of what happened to them. A flash of who or what did this to them. There's three of them so you have to be able to get something out of one of them," Sebastian explained.

Rory glared at him. "So this is how ye' wanted to help me explore me power? What's  _her_  purpose then?" he asked, nodding toward the woman who had come through the door with them.

"This is Beiste. She's one of our bouncers, but also an excellent medic in supernatural abnormalities and diseases. She's here to keep the kids under control, make sure they stay calm and don't hurt anyone," Sebastian answered. Rory nodded at Beiste, but she simply kept a neutral expression on her face.

"Okay so what d'we do now?" the teen asked. In response, Beiste picked up the nearest of the three boys and carried him over to the carousel. She adjusted his iron chains so he was then strapped to one of the girders, hands behind him. He was struggling quite a bit, but the more he struggled, the more he tired himself out.

"Just put your hands on him and see what you can yank out," Sebastian answered, putting a suggestive spin on the word 'yank' and winking at the boy. "Go on, see what you can do."

Rory sighed. The three boys were almost more intimidating now than they had been the night that they had beaten him to death. They were just violent assholes then, but now they were mentally deranged. He tried to maintain a confident posture as he walked up to the first boy, Eric, looking him over.

The prisoner was pitiful. He had torn his clothes in numerous places, his shirt mostly shredded fabric hanging off of his frame. He had scratch marks all over his arms and legs and face where he had obviously been clawing at himself. He continued his pathetic struggle against the beam, but he wasn't going anywhere.

Rory raised his hands and placed them on either side of the boy's head, then tried to catch his eyes. Eye contact wasn't necessary but it helped. The fool was struggling against the chains so badly, however, that they couldn't lock eyes.

For Rory, it was like trying to dig through clay. Normally, he could see surface memories easily, and ones that were older memories took a bit more concentration and focus to pull out. He shook his head. "Nothing. Not even recent."

"Keep trying," Sebastian urged. Rory nodded and refocused, closing his eyes and picturing himself trying to literally dig through the clay of the boy's head. All that was coming out was chips, however. Not even full flashes, but merely quick strobes of colors, mostly blacks and grays. When Sebastian could tell that Rory was about to give up, he urged him on again. "Don't stop, keep going!"

Rory kept concentrating, picturing the clay tearing away bit by bit, but it was tedious, and his head was starting to hurt. He could hear Sebastian in the background, demanding him to keep going, not to stop. Rory's hands started to feel hot, tingly. He could feel beads of sweat on his forehead, a sickly feeling in his stomach, his headache turning more into a migraine. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tighter, boring into the head of the insane teenager. Eric was yelling obscenities and word salad, thrashing about the best he could in his restraints.

There was a faint odor of something burning, and Rory's hands were so hot it felt like he had them in an oven. Rory suddenly found himself screaming, a strange sensation of flying or falling, a rush of air, and then his body stopping, hitting something firm but soft.

Rory felt dizzy, his head spinning and his hands still tingling. "What happened?" he asked, woozy. Before anyone else could answer, the door to the hallway was wrenched right off of its hinges with a loud screech. Another rush of air and Rory felt himself being pulled from one soft pad to another.

"Sam?" he asked, opening his eyes again and trying to regain his bearings. "Sam, what happened?"

"That's what I want to know. Sebastian, what did you do to him?" Sam demanded.

"I didn't do anything. He did it all on his own," the sheriff answered.

Sam helped Rory to stand, the boy holding himself up against the wall. Another rush of air and when he opened his eyes again, Sam had Sebastian by the throat, up against another wall, his fangs extended and anger in his eyes.

"Don't fuck with me, Sebastian! What did you do to him!?" Sam hissed. Rory blinked his eyes and suddenly it was Sam who was against the wall, Sebastian grasping him by the neck.

"I told you, I did nothing to him. He was reading that human over there and his hands started glowing and then he screamed and shot backwards like he was put in a slingshot. If I hadn't have caught him, he would have been splattered on the wall," Sebastian said coldly. He released his hand and let Sam drop to the floor. Sam began to rise, his eyes still filled with rage.

"Oh, no, don't go down there, Sam," Santana said flatly, coming lazily down the stairs. She looked toward her maker. "I tried to stop him, but he overpowered me," she said sarcastically.

"Santana, now is  _not_  the time!" Sebastian shouted.

"Stop it!" Rory cried out, closing his eyes to stop the vertigo. "All of ye', stop it. I'm fine. Sebastian caught me before I got hurt. It wasn't his fault," he said quietly.

Sam appeared before Rory, a blur that moved under Sebastian's arm and across the floor. He was standing with the boy, keeping him steady, "If he didn't do anything, then what happened?"

"I don't know, really," the boy replied. "I was trying to get inside his head, and it was blocked so I kept digging and digging, and then me hands felt hot and I felt sick and me head hurt worse than anything else in the world, and then I was flying and falling."

"Come on, we're leaving. This wouldn't have happened if we hadn't gotten involved with Sebastian," Sam said, cutting his eyes over at the sheriff.

Rory was hesitant, however. "Wait. I... I want t'try again," he said quietly.

"Try again? But look what happened, what if it happens again, or worse?" Sam asked, worried. He put his arms around the boy protectively.

The teen gave a weak smile. "I'll be fine. Just let me try. I 'ave to know what happened just now."

Sebastian smirked. "Looks like you have no choice but to let him," he taunted Sam. "Let him work his magic and see for yourself."

Rory left Sam's arms and ambled over to Eric hanging on the girder, the boy having calmed down immensely. He was awake, but he was no longer struggling. As before, Rory lifted his hands and placed them on either side of Eric's head, and began to concentrate.

Without the captive struggling, Rory was able to catch his gaze, but found nothing there. His eyes were there, but nothing was behind them. He was blank. So Rory closed his eyes, and started to concentrate harder, returning to the image of a clay wall. The pieces he had chipped away were still gone, but he had more to go. His mind dug in, clawing at the mineral, tiny bits of the boy's mind finally chipping away to open up.

In reality, Rory had no idea what kind of effects this could be having on the prisoner. The clay was merely a mental picture he himself created to visualize what he was doing, but for all he knew, he was literally tearing away at Eric's mind piece by piece.

His hands began to feel hot again, his fingertips tingling with heat. His head began to hurt again, the pain more intense than before. Sweat beaded up on his forehead and trickled down, tickling his neck. His entire body felt abuzz, a steady hum in his ears, Sam's voice barely audible.

"-op!... -et go!... -ry!... -top! -top! Stop!" Sam's voice finally cut through the din, breaking his concentration. He stumbled backward, but not like before. He felt dizzy and off-kilter, his head still aching. He felt strong arms behind him, holding him steady. "Okay, you're done. No more. We're leaving," Sam said firmly.

"At least now you have seen for yourself that I did nothing to him. Whatever it was, it came from him. Now you can stop with the false accusations and foolish threats," Sebastian said triumphantly.

Sam looked back at his sheriff and glared coldly. "Goodbye, Sebastian. This is over, got it?" The older vampire smirked as Sam helped his wobbly boyfriend up the stairs and out of the door.

Santana sauntered up to her maker.. "What happened? I could hear weird noises all the way up there, and then Sam freaked out and came down here," Santana asked, hiding her genuine concern. She poked at the prisoner as she walked by, scoffing at the smell of body odor.

"I'm not sure, but you should have seen it the first time. His hands were glowing bright yellow and whatever he was doing sent him flying backward. It was much more intense than what we just witnessed a moment ago. There is definitely way more to that boy than I thought at first. The mind reading was one thing, but this glowing effect is definitely something new."

Santana was still poking at the boy on the girder, noticing a strange texture to his body. It felt smooth but firm. She then took a glance at his head and gasped lightly. "Look at this! It's like his head was singed!"

Sebastian shoved her aside and peered at the boy's head. Sure enough, on each side of his head where Rory had been touching him, his face looked burnt. He poked at it with his fingertip to find it sunk in slightly, as if the flesh were made of some sort of clay. His finger left an indent where he touched the skin.

"Well look at that. He was melting the bastard. Just like a wax dummy," Sebastian said, fascinated. He pressed in on the temple a bit more, and when he pulled his finger away this time, it tore off some of the skin as well, eliciting a loud moan from the victim.

"Gross," the sheriff commented, flinging the flesh from his finger. "I wonder what would have happened if he held on longer. Seems like he can't, though. He tried twice and neither time did he finish whatever he was actually trying to do."

"I'm guessing it's going to be much harder to get him to come back here now that Sam has taken him away," the woman remarked.

"I will get him back when I need him." Sebastian smirked and turned around, looking over at the other prisoners. They had settled down, but if they didn't get treatment for whatever seemed to have afflicted them, they would most likely remain insane forever.

 


	5. Season 1, Episode 5: Ability

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Memorial to Cory Monteith: It is with great sadness that I have to hear this morning that Cory Monteith has passed away. It was quite a shock, and I hope that whatever the reason for his passing, people remember him for the good things he did. As Finn Hudson, he inspired a lot of young people to be themselves, to sing, to follow their dreams. He brought something special to a lot of people just by being a character on a show, and that in itself is an accomplishment. I know next to nothing about him outside of Glee, but everyone says he was a great person, wonderful to work with, and inspirational. Love goes out to his family, his friends, and everyone that he has touched in some way through his acting or personally. Glee will definitely not be the same without him, and every time we don't see his character or name onscreen, we will be reminded of this tragic moment, but never forget his memory and remember him for his greatest moments but on and offscreen. Rest in peace, Cory Monteith, for you will be missed by family, friends, and fans alike.**  
>  __  
> Author's Notes: By this point in the story I am sure most of you have figured out which Glee characters parallel True Blood characters. I'm also pretty sure you guys know why I chose who I did for each role. Just for fun, when you post your next review (and I hope you are reviewing, it caters to my badly damaged ego hehe) give me your thoughts on who you think is taking who's role and why I might have chosen them. I always value what my readers are thinking!  
>  ****  
> Beta Credit: TVTime

**Season 1, Episode 5: Ability**

Sam had taken Rory home just before dawn approached. The teen was sound asleep; he never even stirred as Sam gently placed him in the truck, and then carried him upstairs to his room. He tucked him in, removing his shoes and socks, and then his jeans. Before, he had been wary of removing Rory's clothing out of respect, but at this point they trusted each other, and Sam knew Rory wouldn't feel violated. Sam stood over his slumbering boyfriend, smiling slightly as he watched his chest rise and fall in peaceful sleep. A single red tear streaked the vampire's cheek as he thought once more about the fact that he would never be able to sleep and wake with the boy the same way a normal human couple would.

Before sadness could ruin his happy moment, Sam ran from the house, back to the vehicle. He needed to get home so that he could rest by the time dawn set.

-ooo-

"My God, Rory! You look terrible!" Mercedes exclaimed upon seeing her friend entering the Lima Bean to start his shift. While he had slept incredibly well overnight, he woke up still feeling physically exhausted. He attributed it to the strange happenings of the night before, assuming whatever had occurred took a lot of energy out of him. As far as he was concerned, he'd be fine once he got going through the day.

"Holy crap, you're pale as hell," Kurt added, rushing up to the boy and putting the back of his hand on Rory's forehead. Rory shook him off and shuffled toward the employee lounge to clock in.

Kurt and Mercedes looked at each other, worried. "He looks bad. Pale, and sickly. You don't think…?" the woman began, giving Kurt a pleading stare that begged him to have some explanation for the boy's condition.

"His forehead didn't feel hot, like a fever or anything. Did you see how he was moving though? Slow and-" Kurt began, but was interrupted by Mike.

The manager appeared behind them, a grim look on his face. "Weak," he finished for Kurt. "He looks weak. Like someone who either hasn't had enough sleep in a long time, or someone anemic." His two employees looked confused. "Anemic, thin blood, easier blood loss. Blood being the key word here."

"You think that fanger fed on him?" Mercedes asked, her eyes watering at the thought.

"I don't know. I asked Tina to check on him. He seems to open up to her the most when it comes to this sort of thing," Mike replied. In truth, he knew that Tina was the only one who had the compassion and personality to drag the truth out of the kid without causing a war. Kurt was far too blunt, and Mercedes was too dramatic. Either of them would cause him to shut down. Yes, Tina was the perfect choice here.

"You two get back to work for now. I'll let you know if Tina finds out anything. I have to work on payroll," the manager said, walking toward his office, leaving Mercedes and Kurt at the bar. The two said nothing else, but went about their menial tasks in silence, trading the occasional look of worry since they hadn't seen Rory appear yet.

-ooo-

Rory had clocked in for his shift, but started to feel lightheaded. He braced himself against the wall, closing his eyes to see if the feeling would go away.

"Rory? Are you okay?" came the soft voice of Tina Cohen-Chang. He hadn't heard the door open or close, but the slight ringing in his ears most likely took care of that. "Come on, let's sit down; you look like you might faint." She took him by the arm and helped him to sit in a chair, pulling one up for herself once he was comfortable.

"I'll be okay," the teen assured her, but she wasn't buying it.

"Rory, you look awful. You're pale; you look like you might pass out any second. If you could see yourself, you'd see what I mean," she explained. "I'll be right back, I'm going to get you a drink. Maybe some orange juice. That's good for replenishing a blood count."

The way Tina justified the selection of orange juice instantly alerted Rory to the fact that she was assuming he must have been bitten and drained by a vampire. She didn't seem angry or scared however, merely concerned.

"Here, drink some of this," she said, returning moments later with a large glass of ice-cold orange juice. "This should perk you up a little bit." He thanked her as he took the glass from her, sipping carefully as if he were afraid he might drop it.

"Sam didn't… he didn't drink me blood," Rory finally said, sighing deeply. "I know ye' all think he did, but he didn't."

Tina felt slightly guilty that she had made the assumption, but something had told her that she had been wrong from the moment the thought had entered her mind. "How come you look so pale and weak?" she asked, taking care not to make the words come across as sarcastic or challenging.

"I can't say. Maybe just too much goin' on last night," he replied, realizing how his words sounded, what they almost insinuated.

"Can I ask you something personal?" the woman inquired. Rory shrugged. "This isn't some sort of effect from intimacy, is it? I don't know anything about vampire… relations… but could that have anything to do with how you feel?"

The teen couldn't help but laugh. "No, we 'aven't done anything like that. We just visited the vampire bar, and I guess we just stayed out too late," he said.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry, I'm just concerned is all," Tina said. "I don't know anything about vampires, really. I know Sam is a nice person though, and I think it's a good chance for me to learn a little something about them. I can't imagine someone as kind as him being like the vampires we see on the news or in movies."

Rory smiled at her, the juice starting to perk him up just as she had promised. "Thank ye', Tina. It means a lot t'me that ye' aren't acting the way e'eryone else is. Sam really is a wonderful person. I wish the others would give him a chance. Would be open to knowin' him." He started to sniffle, closing his eyes tight to fight back the tears.

Tina leaned forward and hugged him. "They'll come around eventually. Give them time." She sat with him for several minutes, exchanging idle small talk while he drank his juice.

Before she left the lounge, Tina paused at the door. "Rory, you know you can talk to me about anything. Anything at all. I'll keep it between you and me, I promise," she said with a genuine smile.

"Thank ye'," the teen replied, smiling back. He contemplated just spilling it all out on the table for her right then, but it was just too much. Too much to expect anyone to understand all at once. It was already too much when he expected them to understand his special ability, but asking them to understand  _this_  new ability, was just too much. He decided he would wait until he knew more about it himself before broaching the subject with anyone else.

Not even five minutes after Tina had left, Mike entered the room, sitting down across from the younger teen. "Feeling okay?" he asked in a concerned, yet authoritative tone.

"I'll be fine. I just had a bad night's sleep. I'll be right along in a moment," Rory replied unconvincingly.

Mike's stare bore down on him. "If I see you aren't feeling well again the rest of your shift, I'm sending you home. No arguments." He leaned forward and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Hey, I'm not trying to be mean. I'm just looking out for you, and if you start getting sickly like this, you need to rest and get better. At home."

Rory nodded his head hesitantly. "I un'erstand." He watched as Mike stood up and left, leaving Rory to mentally prepare himself. He already expected that Mercedes and Kurt would be on his case, and he really had no desire to deal with them. He could have taken Mike up on his offer to go home, but that wasn't the answer.

-ooo-

Rory worked his shift as normal, but he was very quiet. He spent more time than usual cleaning the tables, taking orders, and making idle chit-chat with his customers. Any excuse to keep away from his friends. He could feel their eyes on him constantly, as if they were waiting for him to slip up or something, anything to give them an excuse to start asking questions. He even took extra care not to make any clumsy mistakes or knock things over so as not to draw extra attention to himself.

His luck ran out, however, when it was around eight and the customers were practically non-existent. The tables were all clean and there was no one around. The only ones there were Kurt, Mercedes, and Tina, the latter about to leave for the night.

"When are you going to stop avoiding us and tell us what's going on?" Mercedes asked pointedly the moment he came behind the bar to fix himself yet another orange juice.

"Nothing's goin' on. I'm just tired," he said. It wasn't entirely a lie—he  _was_  tired—but he was definitely leaving out a lot of details.

"I don't believe you," Kurt declared, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, a fresh cappuccino in hand. "You're either sick, which I highly doubt, or that vampire has done something to you. Now are you going to fess up, or do we have to drag it out of you?"

Rory sighed, purposely taking longer than necessary to fill his glass with ice and juice. "Sam hasn't done anything to me. I promise. He would ne'er hurt me. I wish ye' could trust me on that," he said sadly. "I just need some rest. These late nights with him are wearing me out. That's all it is."

"Then maybe you need friends who can actually walk in the daylight," Kurt said sarcastically, sipping his coffee. Rory looked up at him, narrowing his eyes.

"What did ye' say t'me?" the teen challenged.

"I said," Kurt repeated, "That you need friends who can walk in the daylight. Humans. People who don't keep you up all night going to dangerous bars and drinking the life out of people all the while draining you of any energy you have just by lack of sleep."

Rory stood up, setting his glass on the counter, a newfound strength in his body. "How dare ye' say those things, Kurt! I thought ye' were me friend!"

"I  _am_  your friend, why else do you think I care that he's doing this to you? It's unhealthy," Kurt replied firmly. He put his free hand on Rory's shoulder in an act of consolation, but all it did was anger the boy.

"Don't touch me!" Rory shouted, pushing back against Kurt's chest with the only intention being to get him to back away. Instead, when his hands made contact with Kurt's body, a dull flash of light emitted from the boy's hands, slamming into Kurt's chest and knocking him back off of his feet, his coffee spilling everywhere.

"What the hell did you just do to him?" Mercedes cried out, rushing to Kurt's aid. "You… you hit him with… something! But you hit him!"

Rory backed away, his hands in front of him. "No, I didn't mean t'do anything! I just wanted him to back away, I didn't want t'hurt him!" A look of horror crossed his face, but then it turned into one of sheer exhaustion. His eyes fluttered and he collapsed on the floor, taking the bartender's stool with him.

"What the hell is going on?" Mercedes yelled in frustration. Kurt was recovering from his fall, his only injury being a slight pain in his chest where whatever had hit him connected, and a slight ache in his rear where he had fallen. The coffee had spilled wildly, but luckily just stained his pants, however his shirt now had a pair of darkened handprints on it, as if an iron had been left on it just a little too long.

"Should we call an ambulance for Rory?" Kurt asked, shaking his head to readjust himself.

"I… I don't know," the stout woman replied. "Whatever he did, it wasn't normal. Would a doctor even know what to do? He didn't pass out until he did that. They wouldn't have the slightest idea what was going on."

The two older teens had crouched down near their friend, looking for signs of injury.

"Where is he!?" they heard a voice bellow, alarmed. It was the vampire. Sam.

"He's back here," Mercedes answered fretfully. "He passed out."

"He didn't just pass out. He… he did something to me and  _then_  he passed out," Kurt corrected her. Despite his concern for his friend, he was still irritated that he had been attacked, even by accident.

Sam went behind the bar, crouching down and listening to the boy's heartbeat. "His heart sounds fine. He's breathing. I think he'll be okay," he said with relief. "He just needs some rest. A good night's sleep."

"Yeah, no kidding. You've been keeping him out all night long so he isn't sleeping, then coming in to work and now he's passing out from exhaustion. It's all your fault, you know!" Kurt said hatefully. "Maybe if you let him actually sleep at night like he's supposed to, he'd be okay."

Sam glared at the man, forcing himself to maintain control of his emotions. "You have no idea what you're talking about, young man. There's more going on with this boy than you can fathom. The last thing he needs is his friends with their judgmental attitudes being unsupportive of his choices." He would have laughed at himself for sounding so much like his father, but he was gravely serious.

Kurt had no words that would come to mind. How could he argue? He  _was_  being judgmental, as was Mercedes. They really didn't know exactly what was going on except for the fact that their friend was dating a vampire and staying out late at night. For all they knew, Rory and Sam just spent time watching movies and talking.

"Look, arguing isn't going to help Rory," Mercedes interjected. "Sam, I don't like you. I don't trust you. But Rory does. I don't agree with it, but I guess I just have to accept it." Her pointed comments hit Sam like a truck, but he had to admire her honesty. "If you know what's going on, if you know what could help him, then do it. Give him a reason to trust you. Give  _us_  a reason to trust you."

"Are you crazy? What if—" Kurt began, but the woman put her hand over his mouth, silencing him.

"Sam, just take him home. Let him rest for once. Think about what this relationship could be doing to him. Is it worth his health? Weigh it," Mercedes said sternly. Her eyes bore into him fearlessly as if she knew he would not glamour her into submission of some sort.

Sam didn't reply, but carefully picked his boyfriend up in his arms, then in a blur, they were gone from the building.

Kurt glared at his friend. "Have you lost your mind, girl?"

A tear fell down the young woman's face. "Maybe. But something's going on that we don't know about. That vampire knows, and… And I believe Rory when he says Sam isn't hurting him. I don't know why, but I do. I didn't before, but I've changed my mind, Kurt. If Rory can trust him, maybe we can at least trust Rory."

Kurt held his head in his hands, sighing. "Whatever. This is getting out of hand. Maybe… maybe I'll ask Blaine about it. Maybe this is some sort of magic. Maybe he even knows a way to keep that vampire staring spell from being used on us. Or a spell to just make him go away."

"Don't you think he might be a little freaked out there? After all, he's a Wiccan, and they aren't exactly known for liking the supernatural creatures of the night," she argued. "Then again, Blaine has always been more open-minded than most. It's hard to say I guess. Just talk to him about it, see what he can figure out."

"At least he might be able to give us answers even if he can't actually  _do_  anything to help" the man said, leaning up against the bar. "You surprise me though. I swear, earlier you were gung-ho about being anti-vampire, and now you're all about the fanged-coalition. Sounds like he already put that spell on you or something."

Mercedes shook her head. "No. I'm far from pro-vampire. I just am trying to open my mind a little, for Rory's sake. What that vamp said makes sense. We should be supportive of Rory, even if we don't agree with him. Being vocal and judgmental is just going to upset him. He needs his friends. If we piss him off, he'll shut us out, and then there's no way we can help him. Keep your enemies closer, the saying goes."

Kurt huffed. He knew she was right, and the only reason he could even tolerate agreeing with her was because he ignored the fact that it was Sam who had pointed it out. The events of the evening however were all the fuel he needed to ask his own boyfriend about what he knew of vampires. Maybe he would even have an answer for what happened.

Kurt touched his chest, still feeling a tingling sensation. His fingertips came away very warm, even though the rest of his body was relatively cold from the cranked up A/C. He began to wonder if whatever it was Rory had done, was some sort of heat projection. He made a mental note to address that with Blaine as well. There had to be explanations for these things, and Kurt was determined to find answers. Luckily for Rory, Kurt was far too worried about him to fuss over his ruined shirt and stained pants.

-ooo-

Rory's eyes fluttered open, but he was far from awake. He was still drowsy, his head hurt, and he felt weak. He took comfort in the fact that he recognized the flawless mattress he was lying on as being from Sam's bedroom. He was covered by a thick blanket, his head on the fluffiest pillow he had ever slept on. Despite the fact he had slept here a few times already, for some reason it all felt new again.

He sat up, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. He reached to his right and clicked on the bedside lamp, giving the room a soft glow. He checked the time on his phone, which was sitting on the nightstand. It was still early by Sam's internal clock, but late for his own: Eleven-thirty.

"Sam?" he called out softly. It wasn't like he needed to be quiet, he wasn't afraid of waking his boyfriend; he just for some reason didn't have the energy to be but so loud. He kicked off the covers and sat on the bedside. He had no socks or pants on, just his boxers and t-shirt. He couldn't help but wonder if Sam had sneaked a peek at anything while he was undressing him. The thought made him chuckle. He never thought anyone would even be interested in him at all, let alone be interested in 'peeking' at anything.

He stood up, his head a little woozy. He slowly and carefully padded across the floor into the hallway and down the stairs, holding on to the handrail to steady himself. He felt so weak, but he didn't understand why at all. He had just slept for a few hours. He should be okay, so why wasn't he back to normal yet?

He peered into the living room, but saw no sign of the vampire, so he decided to try the study. Sure enough, Sam was sitting behind his desk, a pair of glasses on his face, reading something. As soon as he noticed the boy entering the room, he shuffled something on top of whatever he was reading.

"Feeling any better?" Sam asked, looking over the teen. "You still look tired."

"I am. Real tired. I don't know why," Rory answered. He padded into the study and leaned against the desk, smiling at Sam innocently. "What are ye' reading? Dirty magazines?" he teased, slipping his fingers under the  _Rolling Stone_  magazine in an effort to seize whatever Sam was hiding.

"No, I don't read those things. They're dull and unoriginal," the vampire replied matter-of-factly. He let the teen slide the hidden periodical from under his magazine, thanking his cool skin for hiding the blush he knew he should be showing.

" _The Uncanny X-men_?" Rory asked as he examined the comic book. "A hundred-seventy years old and ye' still reading comic books," he chuckled.

Sam smiled sheepishly. "Yes. I've been reading them since issue one. It's amazing how the artwork has evolved over the decades. See, we didn't really have these when I was alive. We barely had books at all, and I couldn't read anyway even if we did."

"Don't say that," Rory said. "When ye' were alive. Ye' still are. At least t'me. Ye' just went through a traumatic transformation. Kind o' like the characters in ye'r comic book," he added, handing the book back to Sam. "I'm not that familiar with X-men, but I saw the movies. A bunch o' people who got special abilities when they got t'be teenagers. People hated and feared them. They just wanted acceptance. Sounds like ye'r no different really."

Sam choked back a sob. "That's the most profound thing I have ever heard in my life. You're so amazing." He stood up and rounded the desk, hugging his boyfriend. Rory hugged him back weakly, almost collapsing in his embrace.

"Sorry. I guess I'm still a wee bit weaker than I thought," the teen apologized.

Sam held Rory steady, helping him up the stairs and back to the bedroom. He could easily have just picked him up and zoomed up there, but somehow he got the notion that perhaps what Rory needed was a little feeling of normalcy, not more supernatural experiences.

"Sam, d'ye' 'ave any idea what's happening to me?" Rory asked as he sat back down on the bedside.

The vampire shook his head, taking a seat next to him and holding his hand. "No. Whatever it is, it's because of what happened when you tried to read that guy's mind. That… energy that came out of your hands. It was strong enough to throw you backwards at least ten feet."

"I've ne'er experienced that before. Ne'er in me life. Then when I got mad at Kurt, I went to push him back, and that energy came out again. This time it pushed  _him_  back, instead o' me."

Sam scratched his chin thoughtfully. "The only thing I can think of so far that makes sense is whatever that energy was, it came  _from_  you. Like it came  _out_  of you. Kind of like blood."

Rory cocked his head sideways in confusion. "What do ye' mean?"

"I mean if I were to drink your blood, for example, it would take you a couple days for your body to replenish it, to make new blood to replace it.  _Maybe_  that's what's happening here. That energy you put out was taken away, so now you need time to replenish it. So maybe you feel weak and tired until your body recovers. It still doesn't explain what happened or why it happened, but if you ask me, it's at least a theory to start with," Sam said.

"What if it's… something else? What if it's something dangerous? That can kill me…" Rory asked sadly. "Sam, I don't want t'die. Not yet."

Sam lifted the teen's chin with his fingertip and gazed into his ocean-blue eyes. "You are  _not_  going to die. Not on my watch. I'll give you every ounce of my blood if that's what it takes to keep you alive," he vowed.

Rory sat there quietly, his eyes locked on Sam's, unable to look away. Finally, he spoke. "That's an awfully dedicated thing t'say. Ye'r way o'er a hundred years old. Why give ye'r life up for a teenager?"

"Don't worry about 'why'. Just know that you're safe," Sam said. He leaned in slowly, letting his thick lips touch Rory's, concentrating to keep his fangs from extending. He slid his tongue into the boy's mouth, allowing him to explore back.

Despite Rory's lack of energy, he found a sudden burst of it as they kissed intensely and passionately, finally collapsing onto the bed. Sam straddled him and hovered over him, continuing to kiss him. It was all he could do to contain his hormones. He wanted to simply ravage the teen, both of them reveling in each other's sexual desires and fantasies, but he knew—no, he wanted-to wait. Rory had to be ready, and right now, he wasn't. The teen hadn't said it aloud, but Sam could sense it in his heartbeat.

"Okay, you're getting me all riled up, time to cool off," Sam said teasingly. "Why don't we watch some TV until you're ready to fall asleep again?" He sat back up and scooted up against the headboard, reaching for the remote on the bedside table. Rory sat up as well, letting Sam cradle him in his arms as he flipped through channels. Suddenly, something caught their attention and Sam stopped clicking.

A picture of a young man came across the screen. He was a light-skinned black teenager with buzzed hair and he was wearing a William McKinley High School letterman jacket. His name flashed across the screen: Matthew Rutherford.

"This teen was found dead last night, his body in the same grisly condition as Joseph Hart, another student who was killed just last week," the anchorwoman stated on the TV. "No evidence of the murderer was left behind, but so far investigators are once again ruling out vampire activity since the victim was not exsanguinated and a massive amount of blood was left at the scene. We now have a statement from Holly Holliday of the American Vampire League. Miss Holliday, if you will," she finished.

They didn't pay attention to what Holly Holliday had to say. Instead Rory turned his head and stared at Sam, both of them understanding what the other was thinking.

"First Joe Hart, then those three bullies being driven insane, and now this guy. Do you know him?" Sam asked.

Rory shook his head. "No. I mean, I saw him in the hall, and I know he was a football player, but that's it. I didn't e'en know his first name until now. This is getting really scary, Sam."

The vampire nodded. "I agree. One death was bad enough, but a second? And those boys… The fact that none of their blood was drained is odd too. If it were vampires, they would be drained completely. That means it's something other than a vampire. Something much more dangerous I imagine." He tightened his embrace around the teen, unsure if it was more to comfort himself, or Rory.

"Sam, ye'r immortal. Why would ye' be scared o' anything?" the teen asked, confused. "Unless they impale ye' with wood, or cut off ye'r head, ye'r pretty well indestructible, right?"

Sam chuckled. "Hardly! Vampires are much more vulnerable than you think. We can withstand a heck of a lot, but we can still be hurt and killed by more than stakes and decapitation and sunlight. You shouldn't worry about it though. Many vampires live for centuries. Sebastian's over fifteen-hundred himself. Santana is around my age. One-eighty."

"What's the oldest vampire ye' ever heard of?"

"Hmm," Sam thought a moment. "Probably three-thousand. A guy named Finnigan Hudsonoff. He's a little crazy, but who wouldn't be after three-thousand years? He's actually the king of Ohio."

"King? There's a king? Like King Arthur?"

"Yes, sort of. The king is like the president of the state. He governs over the sheriffs of the state. The Authority governs the entire vampire world. They're a collective of chancellors from every continent," Sam explained. "The Authority are the ones who decided to come forward about the existence of our kind, and the concept of mainstreaming: living in harmony with humans."

Rory's eyes went wide. "Wow. Is there a queen, too? Princes and princesses and stuff?"

Sam laughed. "State leaders are called kings and queens, and that just depends on if it's a man or woman in charge. The queen of Tennessee for example is Quintessa Fabrarra. She's one-eighty, like Santana, which is very young for a queen. And no, there aren't princes and princesses. The closest thing to that would be the sheriffs."

"Wow. I ne'er knew all this was happening right under our noses," the teen admitted.

"A lot of people don't. That's part of the idea though, of mainstreaming. The Authority keeps the vampire population in check, while the human governments make the rules for all citizens, human and vampire alike. They work very closely together with the national governments to keep things going."

As fascinated as Rory was, he was starting to get sleepy again. Sam could sense it in his slowed breathing and heartbeat. "Time for you to get some more sleep I think. Your vampire government lesson is over for now."

Sam crawled out of the bed and helped Rory get comfortable again. Sam kissed him on the forehead, giggling slightly at the childish gesture. He turned out the light and the TV and sat on the edge of the bed, watching silently as his boyfriend fell asleep.

As the century-and-a-half-old teenager watched the slumbering boy, he couldn't help but let his mind wander.  _I think I love him. I never had these feelings before. Even about... Marley. Our love was deep friendship. What we had was different than mates, but this…_ This  _is different from that._ There's _something about him. I can only explain it as love. I wonder if he feels the same intensity I do. I'm kind of scared to ask. What if he says no? I might just be the first vampire to fall apart of heartbreak_ _._

-ooo-

Rory woke up mid-morning, still feeling tired, but not to the extent he had before. He called Mike and told him he'd be in, but needed a ride to work. Mike volunteered Tina to pick him up after getting the address. Rory could sense in the manager's voice that he wasn't thrilled about him having stayed all night over at Sam's, nor did he seem incredibly happy with the idea of Tina going over there, but she insisted she could take care of herself.

Ride arrangements made, Rory decided he needed a shower. He entered the bathroom, finding a note taped to the bathroom mirror.

_Good morning handsome,_

_I'm sorry I can't be there to see you off to work, but the dawn isn't all that friendly to me. I've gone to ground until dusk. I took the liberty of sending a text message with your phone to your caretakers alerting them that you were sleeping over at a friend's for the night so they wouldn't fret when you weren't home for curfew. I also made the trek to Wal-Mart while you were asleep and retrieved you some clean clothing for the day. You'll find it sitting in the chair in the bedroom. I hope it's an appropriate outfit, if not, I apologize. Feel free to make yourself at home, but unfortunately I have not had the sense to stock any human food for you yet. I will amend that later. If you need a ride, I left the number of a cab company sitting on the dresser and I can repay you for the fare. I hope I covered everything. When I wake I will come find you at work to give you a proper greeting._

_Yours, Sam_

Rory chuckled at the sweet note, the handwriting not the best in the world, but he had seen much worse. He had always pictured vampires in the style of Anne Rice: elegant, writing on parchment with quills in fancy script. Instead here was Sam's note on plain paper, written in pencil with sloppy handwriting.

He left the bathroom to retrieve the clothes Sam had chosen for him. Sam had picked khaki-colored slacks and a pale orange button-down shirt. Rory wouldn't have selected it for himself, but the sentiment was incredibly thoughtful. He usually wore polo shirts to work, but this would have to do.

It felt odd to be in the house without Sam around. Well, he was there, just sleeping wherever it was he 'went to ground', whatever that meant. Rory couldn't picture him literally sleeping on the ground, or buried in the sand, but he couldn't picture Sam in a coffin, either. He finally decided that Sam probably had a normal bedroom in the basement or some other light-tight area.

After his shower, he milled about the house, taking a closer look at the books on shelves in the study, finding Sam's massive comic book collection in a large highboy. It was endearing to him that a hundred-seventy year old vampire was reading comic books, but that age was pretty young by vampire standards, and perhaps Sam had never really grown up the way a normal human did over the decades.

Finally, Tina arrived to pick him up for work. He met her at the door, but she was far too intrigued to just take off. She asked if she could see the inside, to which Rory decided it would be alright since Tina was genuinely curious and not out to make fun of his boyfriend's home.

"Wow, it is so nice in here," she said softly. "I expected spider webs and dust everywhere, but it's really clean and well taken care of." She ran her hands along the wooden handrail of the stairs as she passed by them, walking into the study. "Oh my god, that desk is gorgeous! And those pieces in the glass cases! Wonderful!" The young woman was clearly amazed by what she saw, her original expectations totally blown out of the water.

"Can I see the upstairs too? Or do you think that's too private?" she asked, her eyes pleading to visit.

"I don't see why not. The bed is huge, and very comfortable. He e'en has a TV in the bedroom. The bathroom is really modern looking, too," Rory replied, leading her up the stairs.

He showed her the bedroom and the bathroom, but nothing more. He wasn't sure what was in the other rooms and didn't want to pry without permission. Tina took a moment to lie back on the bed, the mattress so soft she insisted she may very well fall asleep if she didn't get up right away.

"This is all so overwhelming!" she exclaimed. "Where does he sleep? Does he have a bedroom too?"

Rory shrugged. "I don't know. He ne'er said where he sleeps. Maybe he has a bedroom in the basement, but I don't want t'go snooping around. It might be bad to wake him up during daytime. It might, ye' know, hurt him or something."

Tina nodded in understanding. "Makes sense." She checked her watch. "We better get going so we aren't late. If I don't see Sam later, be sure and tell him I love his house. It's breathtaking!"

"I will. Ye' should see him though; he's coming to see me when he wakes up later. I bet he'd enjoy 'aving ye' over proper sometime and then he could show ye' his antiques and stuff," the younger teen explained. He made a quick round of the bedroom and bathroom to make sure he didn't leave anything a mess, turned out the lights, and followed Tina out the door.

"I would love t'stay here fore'er ye' know," Rory said, taking a moment to look back at the house before getting into the car. "It's like living in a dream. The perfect boyfriend, the perfect house. I'd stay here if he asked me to."

"Do you think he will? I mean, he trusts you enough to let you stay overnight, and he likes you a lot. In fact, I have a feeling he more than likes you," Tina suggested as they backed out of the driveway.

Rory blushed. "Ye' think he really does? More than likes me? How would I know if he did?"

Tina laughed. "The way he looks at you, the way he's so protective. It's obvious he more than likes you. Only you can know for sure though. You'll know; you'll sense it. You don't need the power to read memories to know when someone loves you."

The Irishman blushed even darker. "Love. Ye' think he loves me?"

Tina nodded. "Maybe. That's for you two to figure out though. Do you think maybe you feel something more than just liking him?" She already knew the answer, but she wanted him to admit it to himself.

"Yes. Yes, I like him way more than just liking. It's stronger and more intense. I think it might be love."

"Then it probably is," she said cheerfully. "Don't say the words until you feel ready though. Once you declare love for someone, it can change things, usually for the better. At least in a dating situation."

"Ye' think if I told him I loved him, he might get upset?"

Tina laughed again. "I think he might say it back to you, if you wanna know the truth. You'll have to find that out for yourself though."

The rest of the ride they made in companionable silence, Rory smiling happily as he mulled over the things Tina had said to him. It meant a lot that she was not only supportive, but encouraging of the relationship. She was genuine and caring, two of Tina's best qualities. He could understand why Mike cared for her so much, why Mike loved her.

Rory made the decision that he would tell Sam his feelings, but only when he sensed the time was right. The only problem was, what made it 'the right time'?

-ooo-

The Lima Bean was surprisingly busy, even for a Friday summer's night. The tables were constantly full, Tina and Rory keeping on their toes making sure everyone was served and satisfied. Mike even came out of his office to help them out a few times, making a mental note that he needed to ask his father about hiring at least one more server.

It was around seven when Rory saw a new face come into the restaurant. The only reason he noticed was because her face seemed to have a faint aura about it, the way someone's face would glow if they had on too much makeup, except she wore very little. She strolled up to the bar, smiling, her pearly-white teeth glinting in the light.

The mysterious woman didn't even wait for Mercedes to ask for her order. "Hi, I'm Rachel Berry," she said, holding her hand out.

"Yeah nice to meet you. What can I get for you?" Mercedes asked hurriedly. She never did very well when it was busy, getting flustered easily.

"Well actually I just need to speak to a manager. See, I'm a singer and I'm looking to do a performance at local businesses to get my name out there. Is there anyone I can talk to?" Rachel Berry asked sweetly, her grin never fading.

"Uh, yeah, hold on," the heavier woman said. She picked up the phone at the end of the bar and pushed a speed dial button. "Hey, Mike, someone needs to see you. Says she's a performer. Uh huh. Okay. Will do." She hung up the phone and reported back to her customer.

"He'll be right out. You want a drink while you wait?"

Rachel Berry smiled and politely refused. She only waited a minute before Mike came out to greet her.

"Mike Chang, manager of the Lima Bean. How can I help you?" he asked formally.

"Well Mr. Chang, my name is Rachel Berry, and I would love to talk to you about your performances held here and if I could possibly be a part of that," Rachel replied.

Mike shrugged. "Actually, we don't have any kind of performances going on. No live bands or singers or anything, so there's nothing for you to join," he replied.

Rachel's smile didn't falter one bit. "Well then it sounds like a perfect time to consider adding that. Can you imagine the increase in customers coming in if you had live entertainment! Even better is that this is supposed to be a teenaged hangout, right? Well every town can use a place for teens to be entertained in a safe, wholesome environment. The Lima Bean could be the perfect place for it!"

Mike thought a moment. This woman, whom he had never seen before in his life, made a very good point. They weren't hurting for customers per se, but the more they had, the more money they could make. His father had mentioned wanting to possibly expand someday, and in the immediate future they needed at least one more server. It was an idea worth thinking about.

"Alright, Miss Berry. Let's go to my office. I'll need to get the owner in here to make the decisions, but lets work on a proposal. I like the idea of live entertainment."

Rachel seemed very pleased with his response. She kept the sickly-sweet smile plastered on her face as she followed him into the office.

Rory paused a moment, watching the woman as she stayed on Mike's heels. He almost tripped over his own two feet when he went to move again.

"Watching girls now?" Mercedes teased as she walked by.

"What?"

"You almost tripped over yourself watching that chick," the woman replied smugly.

Rory scrunched his eyebrows. "I wasn't looking at her arse. I was just watching her. There's something about her that seems…off." Before he could elaborate, Kurt came through with an order that was ready, setting it on the counter for Rory to pick up.

"Serve now, talk later," Kurt barked rudely. He wasn't much better than Mercedes when things got busier than usual. Rory ignored him and took his tray. He liked Kurt but the boy had been a little cold to him all during his shift, most likely bitter about their little incident the night before.

During Mike and Rachel's conference, Tina made a trip back to the office at least three times, begging Mike to come out front to help them, but he declined. He was fully engrossed in this proposed project. Tina had no suspicions that he was cheating on her; she was just bothered by the sudden interest and by the strange look in his eyes. His eyes seemed to have a very faint glow, the same kind of glow that Rachel had.

-ooo-

Sam arrived at the Lima Bean just before close. He was pleased to see that Rory was wearing the clothing he had picked out for him. He stepped inside for just a moment to let him know that he would be waiting for him outside.

Ten minutes later, the Irish teen emerged from the building, a large smile across his face. He immediately walked up to Sam and planted a kiss on his mouth, throwing his arms around him in a tight embrace.

"Happy to see me apparently," Sam teased when Rory finally released him. "Did you have a good day at work?"

"It was busy! We had a full house all night, but I made a lot o' money in tips tonight," the teen answered. "I should probably give ye' a little bit o' cash for all the gas ye've been spending toting me around." He started to reach for his back pocket, but Sam gently grabbed his arm to stop him.

"No. Save your money to spend on things for yourself. You deserve nice things; you can't buy them if you're giving me gas money," Sam said with a half smile. "The gesture is sweet and quite gentlemanly."

Rory blushed a little at the comment. "At least let me pay ye' for the clothes. Those count as nice things," he said, smiling sheepishly.

Sam chuckled. "No. Those are a gift," he said. He placed his hands on the boy's chest, feeling the fabric and the firmness of his muscles. Sam could tell that Rory was nowhere near as built as himself, but the 'average' body type that he most likely had was all the more attractive to him. "The outfit looks very nice on you. Was it to your liking?"

"Oh yes. It's very nice, thank ye'. It was really thoughtful. I didn't expect it at all," the teen replied. "Ye'r note was really sweet, too."

"Oh? I'm surprised you could read my sloppy handwriting," the vampire laughed. "Penmanship was never one of my strong suits."

As always, Sam ushered his boyfriend to the car, holding the door open for him. With the teen seated comfortably, he returned to the driver's side and got in.

"Are you hungry? I went to the store this evening to get some food for you. I don't know if what I got is okay though. I haven't eaten human food in so long, I forgot what's good to eat, plus the cuisine has changed quite a bit since I was a teenager. Milk was in metal containers, taken directly from the cows. It wasn't in plastic jugs in the refrigerator."

It was Rory's turn to laugh. "I can't imagine! Ye' made e'erything by hand back then, right? Baked ye'r own bread, hunted for ye'r meat, caught ye'r own fish, grew ye'r own vegetables?"

Sam nodded. "We did. It was hard work, but somehow it made the meals taste so much better. I guess because we worked for it, we earned the meals my mother made for us. Of course, I haven't tasted food in well over a century, so it very well may be just as good, if not better."

The brunette shrugged. "I doubt it. I ne'er had the kind o' food ye' had growing up, but I've had homemade bread, homegrown vegetables before. They tasted so much better than anything ye' buy in a store." The idea made him grin, thinking about the fact that even though they lived very different lives, they still shared some things in common. He had eaten food produced in the same manner as the much older teen had decades before.

"Do ye' miss the past? Working so hard all day, catching ye'r food and growing it and all? Do ye' think we're better off today?"

Sam thought a moment before answering. "Sometimes I miss the simplicity. People rely on electronics so much now, have to be in contact with hundreds of people everyday, have things like pollution and global warming and littering. Back then, we didn't have electronics. We made our own fun. We didn't need to be in touch with the entire world all the time. I think back then, people were much more family oriented, and spent more time enjoying life and less time involved with so many crazy, dramatic things."

Rory bit his bottom lip as he listened to Sam talk. "I wish I could see ye'r memories o' back then. See what it was like, 'ave a little visit back in time. See what ye' saw."

The vampire moved his hand over and clasped the younger teen's. "Are you absolutely sure you can't read me? Not even the slightest bit?"

The boy shook his head. "I can't. Part o' me wishes I could, just to see the memories o' what it was like back in ye'r human life, see for meself what it was like. But…"

"But?"

"But not being able to read ye', it's such a relief. I don't 'ave to concentrate so hard to keep out o' ye'r head. I can relax. I can kiss ye' and not worry about sucking up ye'r mind. We can hold each other, and it doesn't matter if our skin touches. With anyone else, I 'ave to keep thinking about  _not_  seeing what's in their heads, and sometimes if I'm too tired, or caught by surprise, I see them anyway, and most o' the time, I wish I hadn't seen what I did. People keep a lot o' secrets in their memories. Some awful, some good. Some of them disturbing, like this one boy who had some very strange likings in the bedroom," Rory explained, giggling at the last bit.

Sam couldn't help but be curious. "Strange likings, huh? Dare I ask?"

"Aye. He liked t'be tied up and beaten by his girlfriend. Very strange stuff. He even liked being kicked in the groin. I couldn't help but say 'That's so disgusting!' out loud when I saw it. It was the very last image I saw, which I refuse to describe. It really was disgusting. I ne'er want to do those kind o'things."

"What  _do_  you want to do?"

Rory blushed deeply. "I uhm…I'm still a virgin. I don't know what I want t'do really. I know I want me first time to be with someone I love. Something special."

Sam smiled and nodded, committing it to memory. He wanted to do numerous things with his boyfriend, but only when the teen was ready. Knowing this new information, it made him realize all the more than he needed to make sure that if they were to take things to the next level, that he made it just perfect for him.

Before they had a chance to go on, they arrived at Sam's. Rory was relieved; he wasn't quite ready to talk about what he wanted to do out loud. Part of him really wanted to be intimate with Sam, to do all the things boyfriends were supposed to do, but another part of him was scared to death of it all.

When they got inside, Sam led him straight to the kitchen. There was a loaf of bread on the counter, and a bag of potato chips, with a jar of peanut butter sitting next to it. Upon inspecting the fridge, Rory found a fully cooked chicken in a plastic container as well as some mayonnaise and some cheese. To drink, Sam had gotten two different beverage choices for him—Pepsi and beer.

"I uh, I asked someone what would go good on a sandwich, with a chicken. She told me mayonnaise and cheese were good, so that's what I got. If you don't like it, I can get you something else."

"No, no, this is fine. What's the peanut butter for though?"

"To dip your crackers in of course. That's what you do with them, right? Dip them in different sauces and stuff?" Sam asked, becoming unsure if he had messed up.

Rory giggled. "Usually people dip chips in salsa or cheese or something. These are chips. Crackers are different, and those usually go with peanut butter," he explained.

Sam would have flushed if he could. "Oh. I can get you something else to put your chips in, or I can get some crackers. Or both."

"No, no, really this is fine. Chips are fine by themselves, and I can always put peanut butter on bread for a sandwich. Not at the same time as the chicken and mayonnaise and cheese though," the teen went on.

"Do you want me to cut up your chicken? I can warm it up for you. I didn't want it to spoil so I put it in the refrigerator," Sam offered.

Rory smiled, taking the chicken container from the shelf. "Sure, ye' can slice it if ye' want. Ye' probably 'ave more experience with carving meat than I do."

Sam grinned devilishly. He took the chicken and placed it on a cutting board, setting the container aside. He took a large butcher knife from the knife stand and began expertly carving up the chicken, taking off every bit of meat he could find. He put it all back in the container, tossing the bones into the newly-purchased trash can under the sink.

"Wow, ye' 'ave quite a talent there. Ye' could work in a butcher shop at an all-night store if ye' wanted to," Rory praised. He took out two slices of bread and slathered some mayonnaise on each of them, then piled on slices of chicken until he had as much as he wanted. Next was a slice of cheese and he was done.

"Want to sit at the table?" Sam asked. Rory nodded and carried his sandwich and the bag of chips to the table. "What would you like to drink? The Pepsi or the beer?"

Rory chuckled again. "The Pepsi is fine. I'm too young to drink beer. Ye' 'ave to be twenty-one to drink alcohol."

Sam scratched his head. "Really? Weird. Well, you can drink it here if you want to. I won't tell anyone."

"Thanks, but the Pepsi is fine for now."

Sam brought a can of soda to him and set it next to his plate. He then sat down in the chair opposite the teen and watched him intently. "Sorry, don't mean to stare."

Rory smiled at him. "So ye' really can't eat anything at all? It makes ye' sick? Or does it just taste bad?"

"It tastes bad, and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to hold it down. Vampire bodies aren't meant to process human food." The teen nodded as he ate his sandwich, happy that Sam had made such an effort to accommodate his human needs. "If you want, I can take you to the grocery store and let you choose some food to keep here. I need to pick up some more Tru Blood anyway."

"That'd be great. I don't wanna be any trouble though," Rory admitted.

"You're no trouble at all. It makes me happy to take care of you, and it makes me happy to see your excitement about things. It's wonderful!" Sam said cheerfully.

Rory blushed. "I ne'er expected anyone t'say that t'me. I honestly ne'er thought I would e'er 'ave a boyfriend. Because o' me ability."

"Well, that's not an issue with me, so no problems there," the vampire replied, leaning over the table and kissing the teen on the forehead.

Rory finished eating and then the pair of them watched an old movie on the TV. Sam had a collection of classic movies on DVD, particularly old sci-fi flicks. The various forms of technology fascinated Sam, and the various creatures were amazing. To him, these creatures were like what vampires were to humans-complete enigmas to be discovered and explored.

-ooo-

It was around midnight when Sam took Rory back home. The boy was yawning before they even got around the corner. Sam kissed Rory goodnight, watching him enter the house before driving away.

Rory shut the door behind him, all of the lights in the house off. Something felt wrong. There wasn't the familiar hum of the air conditioner, or the various other electronics that made faint sounds in the night. The air was stale. He reached for the light switch, but instead of illumination. there were sparks from the shattered bulbs in the lamps and ceiling lights.

"Whoa! What in the world? They're… shattered. I wonder why. It hasn't stormed or anything so I can't imagine there was a power surge," he said aloud. He suddenly smelled something putrid in the air. It was an odor he had never smelled before, but somehow he knew it was bad.

"Hello?" he called out. No answer. He went into the living room, but found nothing there, nothing out of the ordinary and nothing that could be the source of the smell. He moved on to the dining room, same thing. Shrugging, he headed toward the stairs, deciding to go up to his room, away from the foul odor.

The steps creaked loudly, a noise he probably hadn't noticed before masked by the hum of the AC. The smell was even worse at the top of the stairs. What  _was_  it? He started to feel nervous, chill bumps covering his skin, slight nausea creeping upon him. Something was definitely wrong. Just like he felt when he first came in. Then the light bulbs were all broken, and then the smell, and nobody around. None of it were good signs.

He knocked on Brittany's bedroom door, hoping she was still awake or at least would wake enough to tell him what the smell was. Silence. He tried again. Silence. He cracked the door open, calling out her name, but he noticed that her bed was still made; she was nowhere around.

He hated to wake his host parents, but he was worried and starting to become scared even. He rapped on the Pierce's bedroom door, getting no answer. He knocked harder. Again he knocked, calling out their names. The smell was strongest at the door, as if it were coming from inside their bedroom.

Chills running up and down his spine, he cracked open the door, about to call out their names again, but his jaw dropped as he pushed the door the rest of the way open. His breathing got light, and he felt dizzy. Lying on the bed were Mr. and Mrs. Pierce, or what was left of them. In the dark he couldn't tell exactly what was wrong with them-they looked to be almost boneless, like every single one had been broken. Blood was everywhere, decorating the walls, the curtains, it even stained the ceiling.

Shaking, he reached over for the light switch, flipping it on. Again only sparks from a broken bulb, but the ceiling fan of the Pierces' bedroom came on, something flying off of the blades, flying right at Rory.

Rory held his hands up in front of his face in defense of whatever was coming at him, and he felt its wetness all over himself as there was an immense heat in his palms coupled with a dull flash of brightness, and the object that had come toward him exploded in a spray of liquid and flesh. He watched in horror as the remains of Lord Tubbington, the family cat, smacked into the wall and slowly slid down several inches before falling off and plopping to the floor.

The teen felt sicker than he ever had in his life. Blood had splattered all over him, the smell of death was overwhelming, and the mental trauma of finding his host parents and the family pet dead in their bedroom was too much. He fell to his knees and vomited on the floor, barely able to breathe as he retched.

"Sam..." he croaked out, feeling closer and closer to passing out with every moment.  _No, please don't pass out. Not now, not here, please oh God please…_  he thought.

Rory didn't know exactly how much time had elapsed before he felt Sam's strong arms holding him. "Oh my god, Rory what happened?"

"Don't know," was all he got out before he felt himself fade from consciousness.

-ooo-

Rory awoke to the sensation of a strong breeze flowing over his body, everything around him a blur. He was in Sam's arms, and Sam was running at vampire speed. Rory hoped Sam was taking him back to his home, which thankfully he was. As soon as they entered the house, Sam helped him up on his feet.

"Can you stand okay?" the vampire asked.

"I think so. Oh god, did that really happen? The Pierces, the blood, the... the cat?" the teen asked in a daze. Sam held him steady, not trusting him to stand on his own.

"I'm sorry. Yes. You're safe though. You're back at my house. Nobody knows you're here. I even took a different route back just in case," Sam explained. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Rory shook his head slowly, pulling his hands up close to his face, inspecting for burns or wounds. "No. I'm fine. I felt the burning in me hands though. I saw a bright light come from me palms, and then I was covered in... stuff." He couldn't bring himself to say blood. Even though it was the cat's blood, he liked Lord Tubbington, and it was not a pleasant experience having the poor creature's remains all over him.

"We need to get you cleaned up. You're covered. It's all over your clothes, in your hair, on your face. Come on, a hot shower will help you," Sam said. He didn't wait for an answer but instead led the boy upstairs toward the bathroom.

The shower was quite large. It was a walk-in with a glass door and two showerheads-one on each side and then a third on the ceiling. There was even a bench molded into the wall. Sam reached inside and turned the knobs, adjusting the temperature of the water.

Sam didn't say a word, but instead knelt down to help Rory take off his shoes and socks, both of which were splattered in gore. He stood back up and pulled the boy's shirt up over his head, red streaks staining his chest where the liquid had soaked through. Sam was apprehensive at first about removing his pants, not wanting Rory to feel taken advantage of, but the teen had already unbuttoned them and was letting them slide to the floor.

Had the situation been different, Sam would have looked him over hungrily, but as it were, all he felt was protective and filled with pity for the boy for what he had witnessed. Rory stepped forward out of his jeans and boxers, now completely nude for the first time in front of his boyfriend. Sam quickly removed his own clothing, having never been shy about his own nudity.

"Come on, let's get in and get you cleaned up. You'll feel loads better," the vampire said, taking Rory by the hand and leading him into the steaming hot shower. Sam had only turned on one of the showerheads so they weren't fully doused all at once.

The moment the water hit them, red flowed down Rory's skin until it pooled at his feet before washing into the drain. Sam ran his fingers through the teen's hair, trying to rinse out as much blood as he could. He reached over for the bottle of shampoo, squirting more than a normal amount onto his head. He lathered up Rory's dark hair, then turned on the overhead shower. The warm water rained down from above, rinsing out the soap. He lathered and rinsed twice more until he was certain no more blood remained on the brunette locks, the scent having washed down the drain right along with the liquid.

"Close your eyes again," Sam instructed softly. He took a washcloth and carefully washed off the teen's face until not a trace of gore was left. Satisfied, Sam leaned forward and gave Rory an innocent kiss on the mouth before continuing.

As Sam continued to wash him, the water faded into less and less red. He worked his way down, gently scrubbing away the lather as he went, focusing solely on the task at hand, refusing to allow his mind to drift in an inappropriate direction. "You know, this reminds me of the time Steven fell in the edge of the river, and sank in the mud. It took me forever to get all that crap off of him and out of his clothes. Dad gave him a trip to the woodshed for that one, but I gotta admit, it was pretty funny looking back on it." Rory chuckled, taking the small delight in Sam sharing yet another one of his memories with him.

When Sam was finished, he stood back up, turned off the overhead shower and turned on the one on the other side to wash himself off. Rory backed away toward the bench, sitting down as the spray hit him, leaning back with his head against the wall. Sam noticed this, and in vampire speed quickly finished washing himself off before turning off both showerheads. The steam kept them warm long enough for Sam to reach out for two oversize towels.

The vampire wrapped one towel around his waist and took the other one and wrapped it around the tired boy. "Stand up; let's dry you off and put some clean clothes on you. I don't want you catching a chill."

Rory followed him out of the shower, the towel still wrapped around him like a cloak, covering the majority of his body. Sam reached around him and dried him off, mussing his hair and being ever so gentle around his groin. Sam was pleased with himself for keeping his body under control, for keeping his focus. He led him into the bedroom, having him sit on the bed while he rushed to find clothes for him. Since Sam had a more muscular body, and thus required slightly bigger sizes, his clothes were a bit loose on the lithe teen.

In a flash, Sam had his own clothes on as well, both of them fully dressed and clean. "Thank ye'," Rory murmured, Sam sitting next to him on the bedside, pulling him over to lean on his shoulder. "I wish that had been mud, like ye'r brother."

"I'm sorry it wasn't. You shouldn't have had to see all that. I want to go back there myself and do some looking around before we call the police to do their job. I don't want them messing with anything I could find useful, like a scent or evidence that might not mean anything to them but would be important to me to use. I promise, I will find out who did this, hunt them down, and-" Sam stopped himself, knowing how Rory felt about taking a human life. Or any life for that matter.

"Kill them," the teen finished for him. "Hunt them down and kill them."

Sam just nodded. He knew Rory was scared and angry, but he also knew the boy would never insist on murder. Of course that was assuming this was a human who did it, which Sam was almost certain it was not. While a human was more than capable of such a nasty deed, something about it just seemed supernatural. He couldn't put his finger on it, however.

"Can I put you to bed now? I'll leave the TV on for you. I won't be gone long. When I get back, we'll decide what to do about alerting the police."

"Okay," Rory replied quietly. "I wish ye'd stay, but I know ye' need to check things out. I don't want to interfere with ye'r investigation." He slid back in the bed under the covers, laid back with his head on the pillow, and used the remote control to change the TV channel. He found some cartoons, left it to play, and waited for himself to drift off to sleep.

-ooo-

Sam stepped into the Pierce residence, his awareness on overdrive. He wasn't sure what he expected to jump out at him, but he had to be prepared for whatever he might find. He briefly checked through the first floor, finding nothing out of the ordinary in the dining or living rooms, nor the kitchen or pantry except for broken light bulbs in every single setting. Several windows were also cracked, but not completely blown out. There was no basement so he decided to move on upstairs, cautiously ascending the steps.

When he had come to Rory's rescue earlier, he hadn't assessed much of what was going on. He simply looked for an immediate threat such as an intruder, and then ran to Rory's side. Now, alone, he could take a closer look.

No matter how many decades had passed, Sam would never get used to seeing death and destruction no matter how many times he had witnessed and even committed so many gruesome acts in the past. His personal opinion was that when he was no longer fazed by the death of people or the destruction of people's lives, then he had lost his humanity and was no better than a monster. He refused to give in to that.

First off, he checked Rory's bedroom. Nothing at all seemed out of place. His belongings were all neatly where he had left them. There was no sign of a foreign entry into the room. At least none that Sam's heightened senses could pick up.

A check of the bathroom was equally clear, as was the bedroom of the young girl who also lived there-Brittany. It was only the master bedroom that had any activity in it at all. The smell had intensified, a slight burning scent leftover from Rory's light show. The light bulb here was broken as well, so he had to rely on his ability to see in the dark. Colors were never as vivid, but if he had any question to what a substance was, he could easily smell it. The smell of blood had a very particular scent.

He could see the large splatter on the wall, the remains of the unfortunate feline in a heap below, a few small bits of fur still stuck on the plaster. He felt great pity for animals who were caught in the line of fire.

Judging by the streaks and splotches of blood on the other walls and ceiling, the victims had been in motion enough to hit numerous locations. As morbid as it was, he bent down to smell both the man, and the woman and then compared their scent to that of the blood on the walls and ceiling. It was disgusting, and he felt like he may vomit. While as a vampire he couldn't throw up food or acid, he could still vomit up blood and he thought at any moment he just might do that.

He studied the wounds on the Pierces and determined that it was the woman who had bled out on the ceiling, and that the only wounds she had were a multitude of tears in the skin, as if someone had grabbed different ends and just pulled until it gave way. Her chest looked as if it had been blown out, most likely from the inside. The man was missing part of his back and was covered in similar tears. It was his blood on the walls. The bed was covered in a mixture from both of them.

Sam had to get out of there for a moment, his senses on overload. After several minutes, he went back in, looking around to see anything that might give a clue as to who or what had done this. Much to his dismay, he found absolutely nothing. Whoever or whatever had come into the room had left not a trace, not so much as a perfume or cologne lingering scent, not a hair nor drop of spit, nothing.

The vampire went into the bathroom where he promptly leaned over the toilet and vomited a hefty amount of dark red blood. He was glad Rory wasn't there to see it, the sight might be too much for him to handle.

Not wanting Rory to ever have to set foot in the house again, but also not wanting to rouse suspicion, he settled on taking just a few of the teen's belongings for him to have while he was away. He found one of Rory's larger suitcases in his closet, which he promptly filled with several outfits, underwear, socks, a couple pairs of shoes and a windbreaker. Scanning the room for entertainment, he found the teen's laptop sitting on his desk. He quickly gathered everything into the laptop case and set it next to the suitcase. Sitting on the bedside table was a handheld game console that Sam recognized from commercials on TV. All he saw was the console, the charger it was connected to, and a small case of three games. That would have to be enough for the time being and he was more than willing to purchase whatever the boy wanted to entertain himself. Those he put into the suitcase as well. He would take him to the store later for new toiletries—Sam wasn't about to waste time sorting through such things that could easily be replaced. It would also look rather suspicious if only Rory's things were gone from the bathroom. Items from his bedroom could easily be explained; he needed them while spending the night at a friend's.

As he finished packing up one thought came to mind. What about the girl, Brittany? What if she came home to all this-her parents and her beloved pet slaughtered, her roommate missing? Rory hadn't said anything about where she was, and it worried him that she may come home before the police came.

It dawned on him then that her number would most likely be in Rory's cell phone. He would speed back to his house, rouse Rory to send her a warning not to go home, and then call the police to investigate. He knew cops were skeptical of vampires, especially with the recent deaths, but due to the nature of things, they had no choice. They couldn't just leave them rotting in the house. The girl would need somewhere to go, and something would have to be done about Rory.

Sam debated with himself as he ran back home. The thought that they might ship the teen back to Ireland in light of the incident was a very real possibility. The idea terrified him and one single possibility came to mind-something he hated, but was reluctantly willing to use: glamour. He could glamour the police into releasing Rory into his care for the time being. He would only do it on one condition, however. He decided he had to ask Rory first, to see if he wanted to stay even after this, and if so, then and only then would Sam use his power over the human mind on the proper authorities.

 


	6. Season 1, Episode 6: Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Author's Notes: Halfway through the season! I started this story intending to do just a few chapters, but I started getting really into it, having so much fun with it, and decided to go on for a full season's worth of chapters—twelve. Confused? Shows like True Blood and other 'pay channels' tend to only have twelve episodes each, with no commercials. The stories are more compact and little to no 'filler'. Shows like Glee have twenty-two episodes, commercials, and often several 'filler' episodes with little to no plot advancement. Hence why TMatL is twenty-five (okay so I added a few!), and MVM is twelve. Just thought you might like that little insight of nothing._  
>  ****  
> Beta Credit: TVTime

**Season 1, Episode 6: Aftermath**

"I 'ave to be in the house, don't I?" Rory asked not long after he woke up. "How else will they know I was e'en there t'see they were… ye' know."

"I don't want you in that house again," Sam said firmly. "I couldn't find anything, and it even made me sick, and when a vampire feels sick over something, you know it's bad. I  _don't_  want you in there."

Rory sighed. He knew Sam was right—it wasn't a good idea to go back to the house, but he had to make sure the police were contacted, and he had to make sure Brittany was okay. She was an irresponsible airhead, but she was still a friend.

"How about this? We go t'the house, but I act like I'm running out o'it, scared. I'll call the police and when they're on their way, ye' can show up to be with me. Ye' can watch e'erything from across the street, just so ye' know I'm safe."

"Fine. What about Brittany? Your friend. What will you do about her?"

Rory frowned. "I don't know. I sent her a text like ye' said to, but all I said was that I would be out late and not to hurry home. That's all. Anything else and the police might suspect something. As soon as I call them, I'll call her and… Oh God, I don't want t'call her. I don't want to 'ave to tell her." A fresh wave of tears streamed down his face as he thought just how much more horrible it would be for Brittany, the only daughter of the now deceased Pierces, and her best friend in the world, the cat Lord Tubbington, just as gone.

Sam nodded but then gulped as he thought about the question he was about to pose. "I know you're upset, but… I want you to make a decision for me."

Rory scrunched up his face, wiping aside his tears. "Decision? About what?"

The vampire sat on the bed next to the teen and looked him in the eyes. "This is going to be difficult. Getting these cops involved, it makes things sticky. I don't want them to send you back to Ireland, or anything like that. Unless you choose to go back…"

Rory shook his head. "No, I want to stay here, with ye'. There's no reason I 'ave to go home yet!" he exclaimed. Sam couldn't help but smile. "So was that the decision? To stay or go?"

"No.  _This_  is. Do you want me to glamour the police so that you can come stay with me for a while? I'd take over as your legal guardian, just as the Pierces were. I'll only do it if you give me permission," Sam answered reluctantly. "I know I told you I hate doing it, but in this case… it's a necessary lie. Otherwise things might get a lot worse regarding your status here."

The teen sat there in deep thought for a moment. Sam was right. Once the police became involved, they very well may send him home, and that was the last thing he wanted right now. He wanted to be safe, and he wanted Brittany to be safe as well. Maybe glamouring would be the answer. Sam could force the cops into believing he was supposed to have been under Sam's care all along. He could make sure the guilt was aimed away from himself and maybe even find out some answers to their questions with the proper queries and mind control.

"What about Brittany? She's eighteen but she's too irresponsible t'take care o' herself. She can't be alone. But she can't be with us either. I don't see that goin' well. I 'ave to know she's going to be okay though. It's the  _least_ I can do for her after… this."

"I could have her stay with a friend or other family member if you like. That'd probably be best, one of her other family members is bound to have to help her with the paperwork and such. She could stay with them. That I can allow to happen the way it is. It's you that we have to uhh adjust for."

"I thought ye' didn't like t'do ye'r glamouring? Ye' said not t'ask ye' t'do it again," Rory said sullenly. "I can't ask ye' t'do it, Sam."

Sam continued to look into his ocean blue eyes. "I  _want_  to do this. This is different. I mean, I could just do it without you even knowing, but I didn't think it was right not to ask you. If you truly don't want me to do it, I won't, but just think about the consequences. You would be sent back home most likely. You may even be implicated in the… murders. Brittany would be lost without some sort of guidance or prompting, judging from what you tell me about her. I'm not going to force this to happen, but  _please_ think about it from both angles."

The teen looked away, frowning and sighing. There really wasn't much of a decision to make. Either Sam could glamour the police and have things go the way they needed them to, or Sam would just have to let things take their natural course. "Alright. Ye' can do it. Work ye'r magic so I can be here with ye'. And make sure they contact Brittany's family so she can stay with someone. I insist she is taken care of."

"Agreed," Sam said. He pulled the boy into a hug and kissed the top of his head. "Now let's get you dressed and put this plan of ours into action and get it over with. This whole thing sickens me, and I know it does you as well."

Rory nodded. "Yeah, let's get moving. The sooner we can get this done, the sooner we can make sure Brittany is safe and taken care of, and the sooner we can move forward. I wish ye' could make me forget it all. It's so awful."

"I wish I could glamour myself to forget. Sadly, I can't. Vampires can't glamour themselves or each other," Sam replied, standing up. "Come on, let's get moving."

"Right." Rory got up and unpacked some clothes from his suitcase. He changed, no longer shy in front of his boyfriend, and then hugged him tight. "Carry me?"

"Yes. Hold on tight. I'll drop you a couple of houses down, like always and then hide. I'll be watching you. Just go on in like normal, and wait long enough for you to have gone upstairs and seen… and then come out again, putting on the best panic attack you can muster. Any sign of trouble and I come out immediately."

"Panic attack, huh? That shouldn't be too hard. I'm pretty sure I'm still in panic mode," Rory commented.

The pair went downstairs and stepped outside of the door. Rory hopped up into Sam's arms, a funny sight really, since Rory was actually about an inch or two taller than Sam. Rory felt the wind rushing by him, the whistle in his ears, the breeze through his hair. It was amazing how fast Sam could run.

Moments later, after walking down the road to his now-former home, he was standing in front of the door to the Pierce residence, Sam in the shadows across the street, watching intently. It was time.

-ooo-

Feeling incredibly stupid for the theatrics, but also aware of the need for it, Rory stepped through the front door, but moved no further. Sam had told him to wait just long enough to have gone upstairs before coming back out, and those couple of minutes seemed like hours. The rancid odor was still present, the silence even creepier than before. It felt like he was standing at the doorway to Hell itself, standing in a passage to death. Finally, taking a deep breath, he let out the closest thing he could manage to a blood-curdling scream.

He then dashed out the door, almost wanting to laugh at the whole thing if it wasn't for the dire seriousness of it all. He started screaming for help right away, pulling out his phone and dialing nine-one-one. He saw a couple of lights already coming on in the house directly to the right, and across the street. Good, he had been heard. At least the foolishness wasn't for naught.

"I need help! There's been a murder in me house!" Rory cried into the phone. "What d'ya mean ye' can't un'erstand me? Help. Murder. Send help!" he barked into the phone, irritated. He had a thick accent but it wasn't so strong that simple words couldn't be made out. He verified the address, spelling it out very slowly as if the person on the other end was mentally impaired.

By then, the neighbors had come out to see what the commotion was.

"What's all this noise, kid!?" a middle-aged man shouted in the night. "People are trying to sleep!" The man was already stepping outside of his door and onto his porch, wearing a tacky robe that barely covered his protruding belly.

"There's been a murder!" Rory shouted back. The man seemed taken aback by the response and hotfooted it over to the Pierces' lawn, his slippers flying off into the grass as he ran.

"What're you talkin about? A murder, here?" he asked gruffly, looking from the teenager, toward the house, and back again..

An older lady came from across the street, wringing her hands. "Oh dear, I knew something was going to happen around here soon. I just knew it. It's those vampires I tell you. I bet one was right in that house!" she said, pointing her wrinkled finger at the house. She, too, was dressed in a robe, except it was so big it almost swallowed her frail frame.

"No, it couldn't 'ave been! There was blood e'erywhere! They wouldn't 'ave left all that blood!" Rory argued. Of course, they had to jump directly to blaming vampires.  _Stupid bigots!_  he thought. "It had to be something else! A crazy person or a monster!"

It was then that Sam ran up to them, at a human pace, grabbing and hugging the teen. "What's going on? What happened?" he asked hurriedly.

"The Pierces. They're dead, murdered," Rory replied, tears streaming down his face. "It has to be murder, they were… they were… I can't say it! It's horrible!" he shouted. Sam started to walk up to the house but Rory stopped him. "Don't go in there. The murderer could still be around!"

"Good point. Did you call the police?" he asked, stopping in his tracks.

The teen nodded. "They should be here soon I hope. It was awful!"

"Get away from him!" the old lady shouted, a look of recognition crossing her wrinkled face. She moved her trembling finger toward Sam. "You there, you get right away from him you vampire!"

The middle-aged man backed up. "Wait, this man is a vampire? How do you know?"

"I seen him around, in the store. Buying those Tru Bloods. Only them vampires drink that stuff. Boy, do you  _know_  he's a vampire?" the old lady croaked. "Do you know about him?"

Rory looked up at Sam, then back at the old lady. "Yes, ma'am. He's a good man; he's me friend."

The old lady snorted. "Good man my foot, boy! He isn't even a man, he's dead! I bet he's the one who did all this!"

"Ye' take that back! That's not true!" Rory shouted. He had expected the police to be skeptical, but he also knew Sam was prepared to handle them. He hadn't thought about neighbors knowing who Sam was, let alone  _what_  he was.

"Don't raise your voice to me, sonny!" the lady shouted back. "I been around a lot longer than you have, I know a thing or two about them vampires, way more than you do!"

Rory was about to go off on her again but he looked over at the middle-aged man, saw his disapproving glare. The portly man looked right at Sam, frowning, but then something weird occurred. They met eyes and the neighbor suddenly looked to be in a daze. It was the same look Mr. and Mrs. Pierce had on their faces when Sam was glamouring them.

"You don't want to get involved with this. You came out here to help the boy, but you don't think vampires did it. In fact, you insist they didn't do it, citing evidence that there was too much blood left for it to have been a vampire," Sam said as he drew the man into his eyes.

The neighbor looked over at the old lady. "Vampires didn't do this, Ethel. Like the kid said, if it had been, there wouldn't have been so much as a drop of blood left. This guy didn't do it," the man said to her, pointing his fat finger at Sam.

"He's done bewitched you with some sort of magic! I knows it!" Ethel screeched. She then got either brave or stupid and approached Sam, poking him in the chest with her bony finger. "Look here, you! You take that magic offa him right now! I's know you did this, you-"

Ethel stopped talking suddenly and her finger dropped from Sam's chest. "I didn't do anything, Ethel. I came to make sure my friend here was safe. Vampires didn't commit this crime. You came out here because you heard him scream and wanted to make sure the sweet boy was alright. More importantly, Ethel, you're concerned about the girl, Brittany. Her whereabouts, her safety."

Rory grinned to himself at Sam's glamouring. He would have been happier had Sam made her cluck like a chicken, pecking at the ground, but that sort of thing was above him. For now. If the lady continued on her tirade, the teen was very much likely to beg Sam to have her act like a farm animal.

Suddenly, Ethel changed her attitude. "Where's the girl? That sweet cheerleader. She wasn't in there was she?" she asked in a much softer tone than she had used before.

"No, ma'am, it was just her mum and dad," Rory replied, swallowing back a smirk. "And her cat. Her poor kitty cat."

"Well, you're okay it seems. Does she have one of those portable telephones? See where she is, tell her she needs to come home straight away," the elderly woman instructed. Rory nodded and pulled out his cell phone, dialing his roommate.

"Brittany? Hi, it's Rory. I need ye' to come home right away," he said. "I uh... I don't know. Just come home,  _now_ ," Rory said sternly. "Okay, see ye' soon."

Rory turned toward Sam, his eyes filled with worry. He knew the only reason he was maintaining any sense of sanity at the moment was because he had Sam with him to keep him safe, otherwise he would have gone into a state of shock long ago.

"Well, is the sweetheart on her way?" Ethel asked anxiously. The fat man, who still hadn't given his name, simply watched them with a dull look in his eyes.

"Yes, ma'am. She's on her way now," Rory answered.

It wasn't much longer before Brittany arrived, as did the police. There were several cop cars and numerous officers. Everything became a sudden blur as Brittany tried to get in the house, but nobody would let her. Officers asked Rory a ton of questions, most of which he responded to just by letting words flow from his mouth, unsure what he was even saying. Overall he knew Sam was going to take care of the situation, but it was still overwhelming.

A female officer took Brittany aside and sat her down in the seat of one of the cars. She was obviously explaining to her that her family was dead as well as her cat, and the cheerleader went into a fit of hysterics. Gone was her air-headed persona, but instead a dramatic, emotional, confused and hurt girl bawling in the arms of the officer. The words coming from her muffled sobs were incoherent, mindless blabber. The words of the heartbroken.

Time passed by at varied speeds. One moment there were cops asking more questions, the next there seemed to be nothing going on but waiting around. Then when ambulances arrived the two bodies of the victims were wheeled out in body bags on stretchers. Brittany lost it again, screaming madly for her mom and dad. Eventually she was forced to be sedated. The EMT was standing in the way when someone walked past with Lord Tubbington, also in a much smaller body bag, shielding her from seeing yet another troubling sight.

Rory noticed that Sam seemed to be taking each officer aside, one by one, talking to them under the guise of a social worker. It was a far stretch, he didn't even look like a professional anything, and it was surely an odd time for a social worker to be present, but with his skill in glamouring, he succeeded in doing exactly what needed to be done.

As some of the police began to clear out, one of the officers approached the pair, suggesting that they go home. "There's nothing more that you can do here right now. I suggest you both go home and rest." She then turned her attention to Rory, noticeably forcing herself to remain stoic. "We have your number in case we need your assistance. You'll be going home with Mr. Evans here, correct?" the female officer asked.

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be taking care of Rory for now, and it will be just fine. Everyone else is aware of the situation," Sam said, taking over the conversation and looking the woman in the eyes.

"Certainly, sir. I bid you a safe trip home, and take safety precautions. Lock all doors, keep some outdoor lights on, check that all windows are locked, and have your phone next to your bed just in case. I'm sure you'll be fine, but play it safe," the woman instructed.

Both boys thanked her and walked down the street a few houses away, and then ducked into the shrubbery. Rory felt the rush of air against his skin yet again as he held onto Sam's neck. The deed was done. Sam had glamoured everyone, the authorities were taking care of the case, and Brittany was taken to the hospital to wait for her grandmother to watch after her in her sedated state. Grandmother Pierce would see to it the cheerleader was well taken care of, the further away, the better.

-ooo-

"Are you alright?" Sam asked once they had returned to his home. The boy nodded slowly, but it was apparent that the night's events were catching up with him. "You're not, I can tell."

"I'll be fine," Rory replied. "What about ye'? Are ye' okay? All that glamour magic, doesn't it tire ye' out or anything?"

Sam took the teen's hand as they walked up the stairs to the bedroom. "It does give me a headache after a while. So many people, one after the other. I'll just rest extra well when I sleep."

"Can ye' e'er sleep at night? Or be awake during the day?"

"I could, yes. But it's pretty pointless to be awake during the day when I can't go anywhere. I have to stay in, and that's assuming the house is light-proof. Any sunlight gets in, it can hurt me. Seems all the more sensible to just go with how it's always been. Awake at night, sleep during the day. A hundred-fifty-three years worth of habit would be hard to change anyway," the blonde replied. They sat down on the bed together, holding hands and snuggling up against each other.

"I was just curious," Rory trailed off. He looked up at Sam and smiled. "Thank ye'. For e'erything tonight."

Sam hugged him tight, planting a soft kiss on the boy's mouth. "Of course. I'd do anything for you," he whispered. "I love you," he said softly, not even realizing the words left his mouth. They simply flowed out as natural as breathing.

The vampire could sense the teen's blood warm, the increased flutter of his heartbeat, the excitement in his pulse. That was all the sign he needed to know that Rory had heard him.

"I love ye', too, Sam," Rory whispered back. He moved his head and kissed Sam, their tongues exploring each other's mouths. Rory could feel Sam's fangs in their retracted state, a strange sensation, like hard, sharp bumps behind where his eyeteeth were. It was the first time he had really noticed them while kissing. He ran his tongue over the strange lumps, his sudden curiosity impeding on his desires.

"Be careful, they're sharp," Sam cautioned, pulling back slightly.

"Can I touch them?" the teen asked timidly. Sam smiled and bared his sharp teeth, displaying them for the first time for him. Rory reached out with his finger and ran the tip along the sharp edge, then around the front. "Wow…" his whispered. He pushed gently on Sam's tooth and the man retracted his fangs, the younger teen's finger following back until he was touching the fang. It felt a little odd having someone examine his mouth so closely, but Sam was actually finding Rory's curiosity endearing. The boy was truly fascinated and not the least bit unnerved.

Rory let his finger drop from Sam's teeth to his bottom lip, running his finger across the tender flesh. "They're neat," he stated simply. He then pulled his digit back all the way and leaned forward, their mouths meeting. Rory continued to run his tongue along the ivory tusks of his boyfriend, the hard lumps no longer feeling foreign. The vampire started to feel nervous, not wanting the teen to cut himself accidentally, nor was he sure how much longer he could contain his excitement to keep his fangs retracted to begin with. It was one thing to bare them on purpose, but if they popped out while kissing, he could damage the boy's tongue.

Rory sucked in on Sam's bottom lip, nibbling gently and massaging it with his tongue. To be so inexperienced, he surely knew what he was doing. Their hands began to roam, touching the bare skin of their arms, slipping under the hems of their shirts to feel the firm flesh of their torsos.

They fell back onto the bed, Rory straddling Sam, pulling the vampire's shirt up to his neck, exposing his toned physique. Rory's eyes widened as he was finally able to appreciate the sight before him. He had seen it before, but this was different; this was during a time of arousal. He reached out to touch the tight muscles on Sam's chest, massaging with his fingers.

At first it was odd to be touching Sam so lustfully. He had wanted to touch him all along. He had wanted to see the man in his nude form, bared just for the pair of them, but he knew before that he wasn't ready. But now… Rory had no more time to even process the unexpected feelings before Sam took the lead.

In a flash, Rory found himself on his back, Sam above him. Sam had flipped them over so that it was he who had Rory's shirt to his neck, exposing his chest. Rory wasn't built like Sam in the least. He was closer to an average physique, with only a little muscle and little to no definition. It was that normality that Sam found so arousing. Over one-hundred years with other vampires like himself who had perfect bodies made him crave something different, something  _human_. Something a little less 'perfect'.

Sam leaned down and began to hungrily kiss the teen, holding his wrists down near his head. They both began to moan in arousal as Sam bucked his hips against Rory's, their growing erections rubbing against each other through their jeans.

The elder teen reached down between them and unbuttoned both pairs of jeans, allowing them both to 'breathe' just a little more. He still had Rory's wrists above his head with one hand, the teen frantic to let his hands get ahold of what he was so desperately desiring.

They continued to kiss, Sam attempting to maintain control but having little success. He could feel himself wanting to let loose. He could feel his teeth wanting to shift, a normal effect of vampire ecstasy.

"How far do you want to go?" Sam whispered in the boy's ear. "It's your decision how far we take this tonight."

"All the way," Rory replied breathlessly. "I want t'be ye'rs, Sam. I want ye' t'be me first."

Grinning, Sam reached between them again and shucked off his own jeans and underwear, and in a swift movement, they found themselves completely nude on the bed. Sam laid atop his boyfriend as they ground their groins into each other, feeling the slickness of their dripping erections. Sam knew the teen could only take but so much before he went over the edge, and the boy seemed to so eagerly want as much as he could.

"Oh me god Sam, this is amazin'! Just feeling ye' like this!" Rory exclaimed breathily. Never in his sixteen years did he think that someone would actually want to be this intimate with him, yet here he was with this blonde Adonis, cocks rubbing against each other in a slick mess.

With one hand, Sam still held the teen's wrists above his head, and with his other hand he slid his palm between their bodies, wrapping his strong fingers around Rory's aching cock, the teen gasping in surprise. Before he could say anything, Sam kissed him, all the while slowly stroking his hand up and down the firm shaft. The elder teen used the foreskin to his advantage, tweaking the sensitive tissue between his fingertips, rolling his thumb around the teen's wet slit and then finally beginning an agonizingly slow downward stroke, all to do it over again.

"You've never been touched like this before? By anyone?" Sam asked quietly.

"No… ne'er," Rory answered, his embarrassment pushed aside by raging hormones. "I thought I would ne'er get to be touched like this by someone. I ne'er thought-"

Sam placed his finger over the boy's lips, silencing him. "Well, I'm touching you now. I'm going to let go of your wrists and you can touch me the way you've wanted to touch a man. Don't be afraid. Let your desires guide your hands."

With that declaration, the vampire released his grip on Rory's wrists. It didn't take the boy long to do just as Sam had instructed, his hands quickly finding Sam's firm, toned back, fingertips massaging into the tight flesh.

The elder teenager slowed his stroking for fear of bringing things to an end all too soon. He reveled in the pleasure that came from feeling his much younger boyfriend's hands explore his smooth, yet cool and dry, muscles. He was being touched by someone who actually loved him, in ways he hadn't been touched in ages. Not by anyone that mattered

Rory's palms brushed over Sam's back, down to his rear. He squeezed tight, Sam letting out a quiet moan of approval. Pleased, the boy motioned for Sam to back off just a bit so he could touch the man's muscular, hairless chest. It was amazing to finally feel a man's pectorals under his palms. As he let himself roam, he paused slightly to tweak the vampire's pert nipples, then moved further down until his hands were wrapped around Sam's manhood, Sam's very impressively sized manhood.

"Were ye' this big e'en as a human?" Rory asked shyly. Sam giggled slightly.

"Yeah. Kinda runs in the family I think. My dad was lucky and my brother looked like he might be, too," the vampire replied. "Wait! That sounded horrible! It was the old days and modesty didn't happen a whole lot and-" Sam stopped babbling while both of them burst into laughter for a moment before the raging testosterone took back over.

Regaining his hungry desires, Rory knew it was time to ask his boyfriend to do what he had been wanting to do ever since seeing the act in porn. "Sam, I want to…" the Irishman began, but couldn't finish his sentence. Despite their current situation, he was still rather shy to express what he wanted to do with his boyfriend. Sam urged him on, assuring him that it was alright to express himself. "I want to… ye' know, put me mouth on ye'."

The vampire grinned, happy to oblige. In a flash, Sam was on his back and now Rory was above him. "This leaves you in total control. If you don't like it, stop," he said. He secretly hoped that the boy would love it, for one of his favorite things over the decades had been to receive a very skilled blow job.

Rory moved down so that he was lying on his stomach, leaning on his elbows, his head very close to Sam's groin. He decided he would simply start with what he saw in the porn movies and hopefully instinct would take over. With one hand he held the base of the shaft, and then slowly got his mouth very close to the tip. He stuck out his tongue and licked the head, tasting a man's pre-seed for the first time.

The salty taste didn't deter the teen in the least. In fact, he found he liked the flavor as he continued to lick the glans, then cocked his head to the side to go up and down the trunk of the shaft, the sensations shooting through Sam already giving the man chills.

Sam watched the boy intently, all the more turned on by the fact that Rory had chosen him to share this moment with. It had been quite a while since he had a mouth on his manhood and the fact that it was his boyfriend made it all the better.

Feeling more relaxed and comfortable, Rory finally opened his mouth wide and lowered his head onto Sam's raging hard cock. He made a slight gagging noise as the large member rubbed against his throat, but he simply pulled back a little. Sealing his lips around the flesh, his instincts did in fact kick in, and he let them take over.

"Oh God, you're so good at that!" Sam sighed. "Please don't stop…"

Rory had no intention of stopping anytime soon. He loved the feeling of Sam's thick, leaking member in his mouth, the texture of the sensitive organ tickling his tongue in just the right way. He sucked hungrily, bobbing his head up and down, moving his hands down to massage the man's heavy balls.

Sam was groaning loudly, biting his bottom lip. He lost himself, putting his hands on Rory's head. He didn't push down, however, but merely ran his fingers through the boy's chocolate locks, his fingernails digging into his scalp as the boy worked on him. Sam arched his hips up slightly in rhythm with the sucking, very gently thrusting into the teen's insatiable mouth.

Sam was lost in his ecstasy when he noticed the warmth on his cock waning. He glanced down to see Rory working him more slowly, the inexperienced teen most likely tiring out as often happened with any amateur. He smiled as Rory paused, looking up at him with nervous eyes.

"That was wonderful," the vampire praised. He motioned for the boy to lie on him and kiss him again. By the time they were finished with their lip-lock, Rory was on his back, Sam hovering over him. "Your turn now," he teased, edging himself down the bed.

"What about ye'r teeth? What if they-"

"I'll be careful. Very careful. I promise," Sam assured him, locking eyes with the teen. "It will take every tiny ounce of control for me, but I swear you will get nothing but enjoyment from this." He was lying on his stomach, on his elbows just as Rory had been minutes before, his face directly in the teen's crotch.

"Ye' don't 'ave to do it if it's that much trouble," Rory said with a tinge of sadness in his voice. Sam looked up at him again, his eyes silencing him.

"Just trust me. Relax, and feel the sensations. It'll be great," the vampire stated. He licked his lips and then placed a gentle kiss on the tip of his boyfriend's erection, tasting the few drops of precum in the slit.

When Sam finally began sucking on him, Rory's entire body exploded inside. The pleasure was nothing like he had imagined. The thick lips, the cool mouth, the wetness, the suction. All of it combined to send pulse after pulse of energy through the boy's body. He moaned loudly as Sam worked on him with an expertise gained over decades of experience.

Sam continued his painfully slow oral ministrations on the virgin teen, forcing him to savor every single wave that flowed through his body. Sam sensed the boy was close, felt the quivering of his body, the quickening of his breaths, the racing of his heart, and heard the whimpering coming from his mouth. Not wanting things to end too soon, the vampire finally stopped, scooting back up to kiss him.

"Not just yet. I want this to last for you," the blonde said, nuzzling his head against the brunette's smooth chest. He let his fingers rest in the fine, dark brown hairs of the teen's pubes, but didn't give his aching organ any attention. "Do you want me to take you?"

Rory was normally oblivious to alternate meanings of words, however this time he fully understood what Sam meant. Sam wanted to make love to him. Completely.

"Y-yes. I want to feel what it's like, ye' know, with ye' inside me," Rory replied, his voice a little unsure.

"You know this isn't going to be easy?" Sam whispered in his ear. Neither of them thought anything of their hushed voices; no one was there to hear them, yet the quietness added to the eroticism. "Are you sure you want to do this? It's going to hurt at first."

"I'm sure. I trust ye'," Rory replied between heaving breaths. "I want t'be ye'rs. Just like ye' said. I don't trust anyone else, just ye'," he said softly.

Sam could feel his ragged breaths, see the begging in his eyes, sense the intense heat of his blood. Every sign of the boy's body screamed for the vampire to take the teen to the end.

"Please, Sam… I want it, I want ye'."

Ever the gentleman, Sam was happy to oblige his young lover. "Protection won't be necessary since I can neither carry nor pass along any form of disease to you, so don't be alarmed when you see that there are no condoms here."

Rory simply nodded, having not even given thought to the safety issue. He just assumed that Sam would do what was appropriate, and that with healing blood, anything could be fixed anyhow. Things like disease seemed rather trivial compared to the ability to heal a human body.

"Bend your knees and spread your legs so I can get to you," the vampire instructed. He gently guided Rory into the position he wanted, the teen on his back, legs parted for his access. Rory flinched slightly when he felt something sticky and wet touching his opening.

"Blood, saliva, and precum are the body's natural lubricants," Sam explained as his spit slicked finger pressed up against the virgin ass. He had pierced his fingertip with his fang, allowing it to bleed just enough to massage into the boy to lessen his pain as he prepared to be penetrated.

"It feels weird…." Rory said with a slight giggle.

Sam grinned. "Just wait until…" He pressed his finger harder until the tight muscle loosened just enough to admit him. "That probably feels weird, but remember this above anything else while we do this. Breathe. If it hurts, take deep breaths. Relax yourself. Relax your muscles." The entire time he repeated the mantra, he pushed further in right up until he felt the tip of his finger find the target – the walnut of Rory's prostate.

The younger teen let out a yelp of pleasant surprise as his most sacred spot was touched for the very first time. He had never even explored himself this way before, and the sudden, unexpected sensation was too much to keep contained as Sam continued to massage the boy with his fingertip.

Several minutes passed as the vampire gently rubbed the gland, pressing a bit harder to insert a second finger. The boy beneath him was so lost in euphoria that he never even felt the third finger until Sam stopped moving his digits altogether.

"You realize you have three of my fingers inside of you?" he asked with a grin. "I think you might be ready for me."

"What do ye' need me t'do?" Rory asked nervously. Sam smiled and kissed him gently before answering.

"Just put your legs up on my shoulders, and relax. It might feel uncomfortable at first, but shouldn't be any worse than my fingers. Just remember how great it felt when I first touched you inside, and then imagine how amazing it will feel when it's my cock pressing up against it."

It had been a long time since Sam had deflowered someone, particularly a male, but he was determined to make it good for him. "Let your hands roam how they want. Touch me, touch yourself, let them be free however you want. Just let your body go and I'll take care of the rest. Don't be afraid. You made it this far, it's only gonna get better from here."

Rory nodded, their eyes meeting and locking. Sam guided the teen's legs up, leaning against him. Rory never noticed that Sam had cut his hand on his fangs before reaching down and guiding himself up against the tight, virgin opening. Sam pressed gently, using his free hand to massage his boyfriend's chest.

"Just relax, deep breaths," the vampire cooed as he leaned down close and pushed, the head of his dick forcing its way past the ring of muscle. He could sense the boy's heartbeat increase, his heart pounding in his chest. "Relax, calm down. Don't be scared"

"But Sam… it  _hurts_ ," Rory replied, a pained expression on his face. "It's way bigger than your fingers!" Even as he complained, Rory felt a slight tingling sensation, which Sam quickly explained as the effect of his blood easing the pain and healing the muscles as they strained to accommodate his manhood. Never once did he take his eyes off the boy, not even to blink.

"Breathe in real deep now," Sam instructed. When Rory breathed in, that's when Sam pushed further in. "Deep breath again," he said. He continued to rub the boy's chest, his other hand no longer needed to guide his erection inside, he gripped Rory's still-aching dick and gave it a stroke.

"One more deep breath…" and with that, Sam pushed the rest of the way in, the head of his cock meeting the walnut, the teen beneath him gasping loudly. "I'll wait a minute while you get used to it, but then I'm gonna move real slow. As we keep going, you'll eventually be able to handle me moving faster. Don't think about it, just let it happen."

"I'm nervous," the Irish teen admitted shyly. Sam placed his finger over his lips, signaling him to silence.

"Don't be. Let your mind relax just like your body. Don't think about anything, just let the pleasure take over. I can sense everything about your body, I know what you can handle, and I know when you're close. Don't be afraid to fall apart. You'll be in heaven."

It was surprisingly easy for Rory to clear his mind; it was one of the first tricks he taught himself to block the memories he was assaulted with. His head was completely relaxed, his hands taking control of themselves as they roamed over Sam's muscular chest all the way down to his firm ass.

Having watched plenty of porn on the internet, Rory had expected them both to be sweating like mad, their bodies engulfed in intense heat, but he realized that it was only himself burning and sweating. Sam's body was cool, maybe warmer by a single degree, but he did not sweat.

Rory wasn't sure when Sam sped up more, and he wasn't sure when Sam started to thrust harder, or even how long it was all going on, but he could feel every single wave surge throughout himself as his prostate was relentlessly slammed, over and over. His hands continued to explore, one of them fighting Sam's hand for control over his own cock. Sam won out, grinning.

"Squeeze my ass. Pull me inside of you. Let your fingers touch me," the vampire urged, craving some attention to his own rear.

The teen did as he was encouraged, gripping the man's tight cheeks, squeezing with all of his might. He could feel his fingernails scratching against him as he spread the globes, inching his fingers toward the man's own entrance. It was all he could do to reach with the vampire thrusting so vigorously, but he finally found his target and gently teased the pulsating pucker.

Sam could already feel himself getting close, something that was a little out of character for him. He could normally go for long periods of time, hours even, but something about  _this_  particular time brought him so much closer so much faster. He could sense the rhythms in Rory's body as well—he too was close.

"Bite me, Sam," Rory said as Sam continued to thrust into him. "Please, I want to feel it."

"No, no you don't. You're lost in your enjoyment and you don't know what you're asking. Just take this how it is right now. You're so close," Sam replied, hoping the boy would drop it. No such luck, however, as Rory turned his head so that his neck was right there in Sam's face, his veins throbbing strongly under the tender flesh.

"Please, do it. Do it and we'll finish t'gether," Rory insisted. He had no idea where these primal desires were coming from, but at that moment he wanted nothing more than for Sam to completely take him, which included being bitten.

Sam couldn't take it anymore-the throbbing vein in the boy's neck, the insistent begging, the growing fire in their groins. He leaned his head down, pressed his fangs against his boyfriend's neck, and bit into the tender flesh.

Rory cried out in pain, but instead of a sensation that destroyed his arousal, it only heightened it. He felt himself completely fall apart beneath Sam, feeling his seed spreading between their bodies as Sam continued to thrust deep into him, while also drinking the life force that the teen knew the vampire coveted so much.

Sam's climax overtook him as he began to imbibe the ruby-colored substance from the boy's neck, finishing up with several powerful thrusts that left his cum deep inside of his lover.

As their orgasms subsided, Sam slid out of him and Rory's body returned to a tensed state. Sam had finished feeding on him, leaning back on his haunches, blood dripping from his mouth. Rory reached up and pulled him down on top of him, kissing him, tasting his own blood on the vampire's roving tongue.

When he broke the kiss, Sam cut his own wrist with his fangs and rubbed the blood over the wounds he had caused, forcing them to heal instantly. Finally, he collapsed next to the boy, both of them panting, and sated. The vampire could feel the slickness of Rory's sweat and seed between both of their bodies, the burning of the boy's blood finally beginning to subside.

After a few minutes of afterglow, Sam sat up on his elbows and looked over at Rory. "I didn't drink much, I promise. You'll be fine in a day, max," he said.

"That's okay. I like orange juice, lots o' orange juice. That should perk me right up," he replied with a smile. "So, how did I taste?"

Sam smirked. "Like liquid gold. The most amazing taste I have ever experienced. I feel something I never felt before. Your blood must be special, more special than anyone else's."

"I bet ye' tell that to all the boys," the teen joked.

"No, just you. I mean, I feel… stronger somehow," Sam replied. Rory didn't respond except for a contented sigh. "Are you okay with everything we did?" the vampire asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Yes. Yes, I really am. I loved it. E'ery bit o' it. I want it again, and again," Rory admitted.

Sam smiled at him. "Good. I'm happy to hear you say that. It was amazing for me, too. It'll be all I can do to not ravage you every chance I get now."

"Who says ye' can't?" Rory asked playfully.

Sam chuckled. "Nature. If I drink too much of you, too fast, it can seriously hurt or even kill you. What I drank of you tonight was more than enough for a week. Your body needs to recover, and it can't do that if it isn't given enough time."

The teen nodded, a little disappointed. "That doesn't mean we can't make love, though. It just means I can't bite you every time," Sam explained.

"I can live with that," Rory replied. "I feel so tired now, more than before. Me entire body aches, every inch inside and out."

"Yeah, you'll be a little sore. You took a lot for a first time. You took me for almost an hour, and you don't even know it. Most guys barely last a few minutes their first time. You will definitely be tired, and you definitely are going to ache for a while. And even feel weak.. Loss of blood. That's why it's important to get your rest, drink lots of orange juice, and take some vitamin B. It helps with your blood count. I'll get you some and you should start taking it every day from now on."

"Okay. I un'erstand. Juice, vitamins, and rest." Suddenly the teenager began to giggle. Sam looked at him, confused. "Sorry! I just thought… if only Kurt and Mercedes knew what we did! They would 'ave the biggest fit!" He then saw Sam's face begin to shift from concern to fear. "Oh I don't plan on telling them! I didn't mean that, I promise."

Deciding to only reply with a gentle smile, Sam rolled over and pulled Rory into him so they were hugging, their sides against the bed. They continued to cuddle for several minutes before they realized what time it was: close to dawn. They were covered in blood, sweat, and semen, and could benefit not only from a shower but change of bed sheets as well. After that, Sam needed to 'go to ground' for the day.

"Sam, can I see ye'r… where ye' sleep?"

Sam bit his bottom lip nervously. He had never shown anyone where he slept before—it was one of the biggest taboos in vampire culture to show a human where he slept, but this was Rory. His boyfriend. Someone he loved, and trusted. Besides, Rory could technically be classified as a supernatural being due to his special abilities. They weren't anything a normal human could do.

"Yes. But never tell anyone else, ever. A vampire is in his most vulnerable state when he's asleep. It's a very deep sleep, deeper than humans ever know. We're sound sleepers. Noise doesn't wake us the way it would a human. That's why it's so dangerous for people to know where we rest," Sam explained.

"Oh…" Rory said softly. "Well, ye' don't 'ave t'show me."

The vampire smiled and stood up, taking the teen by the hand. They shared a quick shower, washing blood and cum away from their bodies. Once they were dry, Rory put on a pair of pajama pants, Sam opting for simple boxer briefs.

"I want you to tuck me in tonight, Rory," Sam said with a grin. He grabbed the teen's hand and led him downstairs. They turned a corner and Sam opened the closet door under the stairwell. Inside it was empty.

"Ye' sleep in a closet?"

Without saying a word, Sam let go of Rory's hand and crouched down on the floor. He ran his hand over the floorboards, feeling for a tiny notch. Finding it, he dug his finger underneath and pulled up, revealing a hidden staircase.

"Come on, down here. Watch your step," Sam instructed. When he got to the bottom, he flipped a switch and an overhead light came on, bathing the room in a soft glow. It was a basement, empty except for one thing in the middle.

"It's… is it a coffin?" Rory asked nervously. "Ye' sleep in a coffin?"

Sam chuckled. "Well sort of. It's a light-tight bed, made especially for vampires. It's cushioned all inside like a coffin, and there're no holes of any kind. No possible way for light to come in."

"No air holes?" the human asked. After a moment the realization hit him. "No, there wouldn't be. Ye' don't 'ave to breathe," he stated. "Then why…?"

"Why was I panting as much as you were? It's hard to explain. A body has certain rhythms it follows, autonomous actions that go on without you ever knowing it's happening. Things that you could control if you wanted to, but ninety-nine percent of the time, your body is in control. Breathing is one of those things. I don't have to have air to live, but my body continues to 'breathe'."

Rory stared down at the coffin-like bed, mesmerized. "Can I lay in it a moment? Just a moment, to see if it's comfortable enough for ye'? Ye' 'ave to be comfortable or else I want ye' to get a new one."

Sam smiled. "Just for a second. I don't want you turning blue in there." He guided Rory to the edge of the box and motioned for him to get inside. The boy stepped into the cushioned bed, sat down and then laid back. He nodded at his boyfriend, who carefully closed the lid.

Lying in a coffin was a surreal experience. It was dark, so dark that his eyes couldn't even adjust to it. It was like he was seeing the same thing he saw in Sam's head when he touched him. A void. The air was already thinning, and the entire thing felt like it was starting to close in around him, as if it were getting smaller, or he bigger. He reached up with his hands and felt only the soft fabric a few inches above him. He began to feel panic rise in his body, his heart pounding. He started to slam his fists into the lid, demanding exit.

His vision was suddenly flooded with light as the lid of the coffin was raised, fresh air rushing back into his lungs. Rory quickly got up and out of the bed and backed away. "There's no way I could sleep in there!" he exclaimed.

Sam laughed, taking the teen's hands in his. "I imagine you couldn't. It takes getting used to. Trust me, it beats dark, dank caves and under the floorboards of a house. It's not meant for you, though."

"There's nothing else ye' can sleep in? Something bigger? The size of a regular bed, or why not just seal off the room from light and sleep like ye' do upstairs?" Rory questioned.

The vampire thought a moment. It wasn't easy to explain the culture of vampires, or the idiosyncrasies. Some of it still didn't even make sense to him, let alone to humans. "It's time for me to go to sleep now. You could use some rest, too."

Rory was disappointed Sam didn't answer his question, but he didn't need to read a memory or thoughts to understand what the vampire's lack of response meant: Sam had no idea why he chose to adhere to the typical vampire sleeping arrangement.

The pair hugged, kissed and held each other. Sam stepped into the coffin, sat down, and then lay back. Rory stood over him, knowing he was expected to close the lid, and bade him goodnight, but when his hands touched the lid, he quickly snatched them back.

"I can't do it!" the teen cried. "It looks too much like ye'r dead, like I'm burying ye'! I can't!" He fell to his knees, holding his head in confusion. "I know it's okay, but I just can't. It's the mental picture."

Sam reached out and grabbed Rory's hand. "It's okay. I'll wait for you to go back upstairs. On your way out, flip the switch for me, and when you reach the top, slid the boards back into place and close the door. Then go upstairs to the bed and go to sleep."

Rory nodded. "Okay. I'm sorry. It's just... to me, ye'r not dead. Ye'r as alive as I am, and closing ye' up in that coffin…"

"Don't apologize. Just give me one more kiss goodnight," Sam said, smiling. Rory leaned over and kissed him. "I love you, Rory. I'll see you when the sun goes down."

"I love ye' too, Sam. Night doesn't come fast enough for me anymore."

"By the way, your hands were hot when you came out of the coffin. We need to look into that, and soon," Sam added as an afterthought. Rory didn't say anything; he simply walked to the switch, turned it off and ascended the stairs. He heard the faint sound of the lid closing down just as he slid the boards back into place. He closed the closet door and went back to the bedroom. He lay awake for almost half an hour, thinking.  _There has to be a way he can sleep outside of that coffin. Maybe we could even sleep together. Why can't we just put a bed down there, seal off the room from light? He kind of dodged the question. I want to wake up next to him though. I want to be held while I fall asleep. There has to be a way._

He finally fell asleep, not waking up until the next afternoon, an hour before his shift began at the Lima Bean.

-ooo-

Sam sat in his small cave, lighting a fire with some kindling and stones since he had no matches or other method of starting a flame. It wasn't so much the warmth he needed but the light, and the familiarity. The vampire who turned him had left him on his own, having grown tired of his new progeny after Sam refused to continue with his disgusting ways of rape and murder upon witnessing those very things happening to a child no older than his own brother. When a new man, handsome and alluring, had come along, he had utterly captivated the maker's attentions and urged an uttering of some nonsensical phrase that apparently released Sam of any bonds he and his maker had. He left not long after with the handsome man and was never heard from again. Most likely he went to another country as the attractive man had a thick French accent.

Even after ten years, the transition into vampiredom was still difficult. Sam yearned to see his family again, just to know they were at least safe, but he had been forbidden. At least he had been forbidden under his maker's command, but released he was now able to do what he pleased. However, Sam couldn't bear to cause his family the pain of seeing him like this, so he hid in the woods at nightfall and waited for them to go inside from their busy day of farming. He crept up to the window of the kitchen and looked inside, keeping himself out of sight.

It was 1870 and his younger siblings had grown immensely since the last time Sam had seen them—the day he died. Steven had a growth spurt and had grown his hair into a shaggy blonde style. Sam could see his strong arms flexing in his shirt, proof that the boy had taken up his older brother's role in the fields. Stacy was a beautiful young lady, her hair longer than her mother's and pulled back in a loose plait. She had a certain glow about her face, something he recalled from her childhood. Stacy had always been pretty, and always had a personality filled with cheerfulness and purity. It was something he would learn over the years that most people lacked.

Sam's mother had aged, but still looked like a fine woman. He could see that time and work were getting to her as she moved slower than he remembered, and she seemed tired, moreso than she ever had in her younger years. She would be in her forties, which for that time period was getting quite close to 'old age'.

Mr. Evans hadn't changed much. Still a burly man with a short beard, and large, muscled arms. He led the family in prayer before dinner began, something that recently Sam had tried to get back into doing. However, it was hard to continue believing in the Lord when he felt so forsaken in his situation.

The vampire watched them going through the motions of dinner, chatting happily, eating their mother's excellent food. Curiosity was still in him and he watched a while longer to see what they did during their spare time. Stacy sat in a chair, working on sewing a dress, while Mrs. Evans worked on a shirt for her son. Mr. Evans sat at a table with a knife and block of wood, carving something into it—a bird it looked like. It was only partially finished, but the man seemed to be focused deeply on his project. Steven sat on the floor with a book of paper, writing. Sam assumed it must be a journal of some kind.

When he couldn't take it anymore, he slipped away back into the woods and off to his cave. His face was stained red with the bloody tears. His maker had left him and thrown him out of the small home they had taken, leaving him with nothing. Sam sought out his cave from when he was turned, some place he had identified as familiar and comforting at the time. He was all alone, and he couldn't even see his family. Knowing that they were safe and happy was enough, and he vowed to himself he wouldn't peek in on them again, for his own sanity.

-ooo-

As soon as Tina picked Rory up that afternoon, she began asking questions about the murders. Word traveled fast in Lima, especially about another murder. Well, two more murders, plus a pet. Despite her onslaught of questions, Rory wasn't annoyed in the least. Instead he told her what he and Sam had agreed to tell others, and she was satisfied. It was the same exact stories that Sam had fed in his glamours regarding Rory's living situation.

The moment he walked into the Lima Bean, he was assaulted with more questions from both Kurt and Mercedes, the pair practically drowning him in hugs of relief. He rehashed his story once again, Kurt turning paler than normal as if he were going to faint. Mercedes was whispering prayers as she listened to him. He waited for admonishments from both of them, somehow blaming the situation on vampires, but after his description of the bodies, the massive amounts of blood, and the help from Sam, neither one of his friends said a word against Sam or vampires in general. Rory hoped it was a step in the right direction, that perhaps they were finally going to see that vampires weren't responsible for every bad thing in the world, and that some of them were actually good people.

Rory expected a summons from Mike, but oddly enough aside from a friendly hug and telling him how happy he was that Rory was safe, Mike said little else about the incident. He offered Rory the night off—something that was happening far too often as of late—but the teen refused, insisting that he needed the money, and he needed to do something to get his mind off of things. The idea of being alone inside the house didn't settle too well with him either. Sure, Sam was right downstairs, but he was also stowed away in his coffin. That didn't exactly make for good company. Besides, being around his friends made him feel safer in Sam's absence.

Later on, during a lull in the business of the evening, Kurt approached Rory as he was taking a short break, sipping on a glass of orange juice. "What was it that you did to me the other night? The heat and the flashing and all that. What was it?"

The teen shrugged. "I don't know," he replied. Kurt eyed him skeptically. "Honest. I don't know. It just happened that one time and I don't know what triggered it," he went on. It was a tiny fib, but he didn't care to explain about the mentally-fried boys he had tried to read, nor the exciting flight across the room when his hands fired up. "I really am sorry, Kurt. I didn't mean to do that. I can't control it. Ye' know I would ne'er hurt ye' on purpose."

"I forgive you. You do owe me a pair of pants though," Kurt replied, not particularly joking. "I asked Blaine about it, the hot flash. If it was some sort of magic," the barista added. Blaine, his boyfriend, happened to be Wiccan, and was also well versed in magical lore. "He said it wasn't anything he had heard of before. He's supposed to be consulting his Wiccan coven. The leader has a lot of old books filled with magical history and stuff."

"This isn't Harry Potter. I don't think I'm a wizard, so it has t'be related to me memory reading somehow. I just wish I knew how exactly. I wish I knew how t'control it. It made me really weak after it happened. E'en when I finally woke back up at Sam's I was still exhausted," Rory explained, finishing off his glass of juice and pouring another one.

Kurt raised an eyebrow, noting his choice of beverage. "How much of that have you drank tonight? I've never seen you drink so much orange juice since I've known you."

The teen shrugged, hoping Kurt would drop it. A customer came through the door, stepping up to the counter. Kurt turned to assist him, but as he walked away, he made one last comment, raising his eyebrows high in a sarcastic glare. "Orange juice is really good at restoring your blood levels when you've lost a lot. You look a little pale. Just coincidence, I'm sure. There's no reason for you to be losing any blood, right?"

Rory just stared after Kurt as the older teen made it to the counter and began to interact with the customer. Kurt had a way of knowing things sometimes, picking up on the littlest clues. He began to wonder if Kurt had put pieces together and figured out that Sam had indeed drank some of his blood. What Kurt didn't need to know, however, was the situation in which it had occurred. It was none of his business. Besides, Rory didn't want to share the tale of his and Sam's love-making session and the infinitely more intense pleasure he had the moment he was bitten.

He grinned to himself as he remembered the previous night's activities. Sam had the perfect body. Everything about him was arousing. He didn't want to share that information with anyone. It was for his eyes only. Kurt definitely was not deserving of hearing the story—there was no possible way he could appreciate the magnitude of what had happened, and even if he could, Kurt was stuffy and prudish about anything sexual. Every time Kurt turned his nose up at a dirty joke or comment, Rory had to feel sorry for Blaine, wondering just how deprived he must be in the physical arena.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice as the mysterious Rachel Berry entered the establishment, heading right for Mike's office without waiting to be invited. It was strange, however, because he had surely heard the almost eerie singing carried through the door by the night breeze when she came in.

-ooo-

Rory was busy cleaning tables when Mercedes quietly got his attention with a quick 'psst!' He looked up to see who it was, saw her wave him over, and joined the small group, which consisted of her, Kurt, and Tina.

"So spill. What's the big deal with this Rachel chick?" Mercedes asked, looking past Tina, keeping an eye out for Mike or Rachel exiting his office.

'What do you mean? She just wants to promote the restaurant with music. I think it's a wonderful idea," Tina replied cheerfully. "You make it sound like it's sinister or something."

Mercedes laughed. "No, just what's with all the secrecy? I'd think Mike would want us all involved, don't you?"

"Yeah, after all, we  _are_  the McKinley Show Choir National Champions," Kurt added proudly, puffing out his chest.

Tina scratched her head. "Maybe he just never thought about it. Rachel seems pretty set on doing a solo act, but if it hits off, maybe he will get the glee club involved." She looked around at her two older friends. "Well, the alumni and the current members that is." A good portion of the club members had graduated and were no longer part of the group. Rory and Tina were two of the remaining members for the coming year, determined to see a second victory as champions.

"What do you think, Rory? Wouldn't it be great if we got the chance to perform here?" Mercedes asked him. He seemed distracted from them and she was trying to draw him back into the conversation.

"Huh? Oh, oh yeah, that'd be great," Rory said. "Hey, uh, I'll be right back. I need to use the restroom." With that, he ambled off toward the bathroom, which was right across from the office and next to the employee lounge.

"What's with him? He seemed kind of out of it," Kurt asked absentmindedly.

Mercedes hit him in the stomach with the back of her hand, rolling her eyes. "Hello? Murder in his house? Death and dismemberment? Of course he's 'out of it'," she reminded him.

"Somehow I don't think that's it. Anyone else notice how much OJ he's been drinking? An entire gallon since he got here. No joke. One glass after the other," Kurt pointed out. "You should have seen the look on his face when I mentioned how effective orange juice is in helping restore blood count."

"Don't jump to conclusions, Kurt," Tina scolded quietly. "He's been through a lot. I bet he's just drinking so much of it because all that vitamin C helps perk you up if you feel like you're dragging."

"If you saw that look you wouldn't say that. It was the look of 'uh oh, I'm busted'," Kurt replied sharply. "I think that  _thing_  he calls his boyfriend tried to get a little sip of him and he's exhausted from it."

Tina scowled at him. "Don't be such a child. Calling him a  _thing_. He's a person, Kurt."

"Yeah, an undead-American," Mercedes quipped. "Face it, Tina. It will be a cold day in Hell before you get me or Kurt on the vampire coalition. We're just worried about our friend, and you should be too."

"I  _am_  worried about him, but not because he's dating a vampire. If anything, that makes me feel better. Vampires have incredible strength. Sam could easily protect him from just about anything I would think. I'm just worried about this new ability he seems to have acquired and his poor sleeping schedule," the assistant manager stated. "I think you both need to get your heads out of your asses and give the  _man_  a chance. If he wanted Rory dead, he would have done it already. Twice just to make sure he killed him. He's had ample opportunity, and not so much as a scratch on our boy's head!" With that, she marched off toward the register, ready to focus her mind elsewhere.

"Good thing she has so much faith in that vampire, because I sure don't," Kurt remarked coldly.

Mercedes frowned at him, unsure of how she should respond. "I don't like him, Kurt, but Tina has a good point. He's strong enough to keep Rory safe from… whatever is out there, and if he did want to kill him, he would have done it by now. I just can't help but think Rory being involved with vampires isn't a good idea. They're trouble."

-ooo-

In the hall, Rory paused at the bathroom door. He could hear Rachel and Mike's conversation through the office door. He crept closer, trying not to make any noise.

"I think we could get the whole town in here eventually," he heard Rachel state excitedly.

"Maybe. It'd be great for business. So how far along are the preparations?" Mike asked next. There were a few moments of silence before Rachel answered.

"Oh just about finished. I have everything coming together for opening night next weekend. I already distributed the fliers you made for me all over town. You did such a great job on those! You won't need to worry about a thing, Mike," she replied. Her voice almost sounded… seductive. "Should we go over the set list again?"

Rory listened for a couple more minutes as they went back and forth over minute details. It seemed off to him that they were just now discussing these things when she had already spent a couple hours in there with him over the course of her visits. To him, that sounded like stuff Rachel should have said right away. Then again, what did he know about that sort of thing?

Shrugging his shoulders, he went on to the restroom. After he was finished and washing his hands, he stared up at himself in the mirror. He looked tired. His eyes were dark, way too relaxed, and a duller blue than usual. His skin was a little more on the pale side than usual as well. He made a mental note to ask Sam if this was normal for someone who had just been drained of a decent amount of blood.  _Just how much of me blood_ did _he drink?_

When he returned to the dining room, he saw Sam standing with his three friends. He became nervous, wondering what they were talking about. He still didn't trust that Kurt or Mercedes would be nice to Sam on his own. He was pleasantly surprised, however, when he joined them and heard nothing but questions about the murders—questions that were not accusing him of it.

Sam put his arm around his boyfriend, kissing him on the cheek. "Ah, there you are. Your friends were just asking me about the incident last night."

"We weren't accusing him of anything if that's what you're worried about," Mercedes quickly interjected. "We just thought that he might be a little more comfortable talking about it."

Sam smiled kindly at her. "I was just telling them how brave you were, keeping calm during the entire time and doing what you could to help."

"I just… I don't know. I just reacted. I was kind o' on autopilot the whole time. I don't think it really hit me until later," Rory said, looking past everyone. He wasn't particularly lying, he was just leaving out a lot of details. He wasn't fibbing any more than Mercedes and Kurt were lying with their friendly façade.

Tina placed her hand on Sam's arm, grabbing his attention. "I'm glad you're  _both_  safe. I know vampires are particularly safe against most things, but still, I'm relieved."

"Thank you, Tina. We are indeed safe from most kinds of attack, however there are some things even we can't stand up against. I'll let your knowledge of the lore lead you on that one, however," Sam replied.

"Can I ask you a favor tonight, Sam? Can you get Rory to bed earlier? He really needs some rest; you can see it in his eyes. After such a traumatic night, he could use it. I know night is the only time you really have to spend together, but he really needs the rest," the woman asked. She turned her attention from Sam to Rory. "I'm worried about your health lately. All these late nights out, these things going on. There has to be a way to balance out your time so you can see each other as much as you can, and still get the rest you both need." She threw her arms around her younger friend in a tight hug.

"I'll see to it he gets a much better rest tonight. Perhaps we can discuss time management tomorrow, though. I share your concern for him, believe me," the vampire replied politely.

"Thanks, Sam. I knew you'd understand," she replied. Satisfied, Tina excused herself to tend to a table of customers who had just come in. Mercedes and Kurt trotted off to their own duties, leaving the couple to themselves.

"She has a good point, you know," the blonde said casually.

"I know. We'll figure something out. Do I look that bad though?"

Sam smiled and brushed the teen's cheek with the back of his hand. "You look paler than usual, and your eyes are definitely tired. Have you been drinking orange juice today?"

"Yep. I lost count how many glasses since I got t'work. I'm not sure if I've spent more time peein' or workin'." The teen joked. He wasn't aware that Kurt had kept track and that he owed the Lima Bean for an entire gallon and a half of juice.

"Good, it will help get your count back up quicker. I also stopped by the store and picked up some vitamins for you to take. Those'll help as well. Take them every day though," Sam informed him.

Rory dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, but Sam pushed his hand back. "Save your money. I insist. You wouldn't need these if it wasn't for me, so it's only fair," he noted. "And I like spoiling you a little. The smile you give me when you're happy warms my heart."

Rory's face flushed. "That can happen t'ye'? Ye'r heart actually get warm?"

Sam chuckled. "It's a figure of speech. It means that seeing you smile makes me very happy." Rory grinned, his face still flushed. "I thought tonight before we go home, we could stop at the grocery store and you can pick out some groceries. You'll need to eat and I obviously don't have much, and I have a feeling you'd be better off picking out your own food."

"Okay. But I only need a little bit. I don't want a lot," Rory said.

"We'll just see what we find for you. You'll need toiletries too since we didn't take any from the house. I'll get whatever you need."

"Thank ye', Sam. I appreciate e'erything you're doing for me. Nobody e'er treated me so well before," the teen admitted.

"It's my pleasure," the vampire replied, sneaking a quick kiss. "I'll let you finish your shift and come back for you when you get off. I have an errand to run, vampire business. Sebastian wants to know what's going on."

"Okay. I'll see ye' soon," Rory replied. He smiled as Sam turned to leave. "I love ye', Sam."

"I love you too, Rory. See you in a little while."

When Rory turned around to head for the bar for yet another glass of juice, he caught Tina's eye just long enough for her to wink at him and mouth, "I told you so," having heard them exchange the words she knew were coming.

-ooo-

Sam sighed in frustration as he returned home to pick up the car, so he could take Rory to the store after work. Sebastian had just sent him a message on his phone.

_I want to see you and the boy. Tonight. Important._

Sebastian's idea of important could range from completely ridiculous to legitimately dire. What sucked was the fact that either way, Sam was honor-bound to adhere to his request. He quickly replied that they would be there at ten, and also that it needed to be a quick visit.

_Don't be smart with me. Ten and no later._

Sam rolled his eyes. He really wanted to just take Rory home after they stopped at the store and spend the evening together watching TV or a movie until Rory was ready for sleep. He needed it, badly. Between the mysterious light shows the teen seemed to be putting off, the trauma of the murders, and the aftermath of sex and being fed on all within a couple of days, it would surely put a strain on a human body.

The vampire noticed as he walked through the woods that there was a sound wafting through the trees. It was barely audible, but it was beautiful. It was… singing. A woman's voice was singing somewhere close enough to be heard but too far away to be seen. It was enchanting, but at the same time, left a strange sensation in his head. Something akin to a headache.

-ooo-

Rachel finally left a little before eight-thirty, leaving the staff with kind smiles as she hummed a tune that was unfamiliar to all of them. As soon as she was gone, Mike came into the dining room and called the small group to order.

"This will be quick. I just wanted to clue you all in on what's going on since I haven't really given you an update," he announced as Tina, Mercedes, Kurt and Rory gathered by him. "We're going to do a live performance, of course, with Rachel Berry as the star performer. We're going to see how this works out for the shop, and if it looks like a money maker, we'll make it a regular thing."

"It's not  _all_  going to be about  _her_  though, is it, Mike?" Mercedes asked. "Don't forget you have a staff of talented performers right here, too."

"Don't worry, if this works out, everyone who wants to perform will be given a chance," Mike replied. Mercedes seemed pacified with his response because she simply grinned and let him continue. "I'm gonna need you guys in top condition this weekend though. Rachel will be doing the first show Saturday night, and I hope it gets real busy. If dad sees more dollar signs coming in, he'll let me hire at least one other server. The busier we get, the more he'll let me hire. Another cook would be nice too."

Kurt shot him a glare at the mention of another cook. "Hold on, I didn't say a  _new_  one, just another one. So you have some help," Mike covered quickly. Kurt was incredibly sensitive about his ability to make their food products as well as mix the specialty drinks, even if that task was Mercedes' forte'.

Mike went on to explain some more of the details, particularly Rachel's background in music as well as what she was trying to accomplish. Her goal was to be able to create the most extravagant hangout for teenagers and young adults in all of Lima, through the use of live music and performances. She was hoping that if this plan worked, Mike Chang Sr. would want a partnership and she could urge him into expanding the venture into something much bigger. On paper it sounded like a great idea, but only time would tell if it was going to work out or not. This weekend would be the first test—to see if live music would be a big enough draw to the local community.

-ooo-

Rachel Berry strolled out of the Lima Bean, humming a tune that was long familiar to her, but unheard of to anyone else she had ever met in the modern world. It was an ancient song, the words in a language no longer spoken. In fact, it was such an old language it didn't even have a name at all. She had learned it from her parents many centuries ago, and it stuck with her like a comfort blanket.

The ancient woman snapped her fingers as an oversized Navigator pulled into the parking lot. The back door swung open, inviting her inside. With a smug smile on her face, she stepped into the vehicle and then pulled the door closed.

"Everything still running smoothly?" the driver asked, turning to look at her.

"Oh yes. I can tell my quarry is near. My visions were never clear on exactly who it is, but there is enough to know it is here in this city. This concert will be the perfect way to begin weeding out the garbage," Rachel answered sweetly. "Hopefully it won't take too awfully long to find the thing. This town is boring, the people are boring, everything is boring. Even the victims in my visions here are boring. That dark skinned boy had no personality and was far too easy to destroy, and the boy with the dreadlocks… he smelled like… grease." She wrinkled her nose as she spoke of Joseph Hart's hair. "And nevermind the fact that this sickly sweet Broadway-destined-schoolgirl routine is incredibly annoying. I should have really come up with something better." The driver gave a goofy grin, revealing sharp fang-like teeth under his lips. "Come on, Arthur, take me home. I need my rest," she ordered.

The man in the driver's seat nodded and put the car into gear, pulling out and then onto the main road.

"Don't forget, Arthur, that if everything works according to the plan, I can have you walking on your own feet again by the end of the year. I know how sick you are of that confining chair and your 'gadgets'," Rachel added.

"I make do. The accident can't hold me back forever," Artie replied, reaching up with one hand to adjust his glasses. He had been waiting a very long time to return to his feet, to walk with the rest of the world again. The accident had left him paralyzed over five centuries ago, leaving him no choice but to serve the woman who took him in. In truth she had 'adopted' him purely for his skills with technology—both modern and archaic—but she had seemingly grown to actually enjoy his company. The saddest part of the entire situation was that Arthur knew there was no hope for him to ever walk again, no matter what power Rachel obtained. All he could do was keep an eye on her. For now.

 


	7. Season 1, Episode 7: Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Author's Notes: Again I hope you all are enjoying the story. Please leave reviews; it caters to my much-deflated ego. ;) Again let me take time out to thank TVTime for his meticulous beta work on this story. I think I may have worn him out after 12 chapters that he betaed twice each. :p_   
>  ****
> 
>  
> 
> **Beta Credit: TVTime**

**Season 1, Episode 7: Answers**

Sam and Rory stood before Sebastian and Santana in Sebastian's office at Scandals. The sheriff had insisted that they be in a more private location for their discussion, and out front near the throne was too public.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that awful experience, Rory," Sebastian said smoothly. "I imagine it must be traumatizing for someone not used to seeing such things."

"Thank ye'," Rory said flatly. He still had no trust in Sebastian, and after their last encounter, he was even less fond of him. Sure, he had wanted to test his ability, but he also had no desire to hurt anyone, including himself. Sebastian had pressured him to do just that.

"I'm also sorry about what happened during your last visit. It was surely not my intention for you to become hurt that way," the sheriff continued. Sam glared at him, eliciting the corner of Sebastian's mouth to turn up.

Santana stood behind Sebastian, looking from Sam to Rory and back, simply observing them with a blank look on her face. She tired of the games Sebastian was playing with the blonde and his human toy. She had better things to do than sit in on their little meeting, but her maker insisted she be present.

"How is the boy? Eric? What about the others?" Rory inquired, afraid of what Sebastian's answer might be.

"They were left in the care of a local sanitarium," the sheriff stated. "I assure you, they are safe and well taken care of. As you know, we do not feed on humans here at Scandals."

"Nice to know ye' don't feed on humans. It gives me the tiniest reason to trust ye' I suppose." Rory offered a very slight smile, just enough to show Sebastian that he was being honest. "I wish I could 'ave helped them though. I hate to think they 'ave to spend the rest o' their lives locked away."

Sam put his hand on the boy's shoulder, squeezing gentle. "Maybe you will develop your power enough to help them someday. There's always possibilities. For now at least they're safe." He then turned his attention to the sheriff.

"You had a reason to call us here, didn't you?" Sam asked, his entire demeanor shifting into one of annoyance. "I told you, we need to keep this short tonight. He's still recovering."

"He wouldn't need to recover if you just offered him a little of your blood," Sebastian teased. "Unless he would rather have mine," he added, grinning at Rory. "I don't make that offer to just anyone, either. I'm told it's sweeter than any nectar known to man."

Rory wasted no time in refusing the offer. "The only blood I'll e'er drink is Sam's, and I'm pretty sure ye'rs tastes like rot and death."  _I try to give him the littlest bit of credit and he ruins it in less than five minutes! I wonder if he was this much of a jerk as a human._  Rory swallowed back a laugh, forcing himself to remain serious.

Santana scoffed and looked away, rolling her eyes. Rory glared at her, his failed attempt at looking fearsome simply amusing the vampiress. She had to admit, the human had balls to address a vampire sheriff so rudely.

"Samuel, you're going to have to do a much better job training your pet," Sebastian stated, addressing his subject with cold eyes. He quickly shifted back into his trademark smirk as he returned to speaking directly to Rory. "Suit yourself, but I assure you, one taste and you would be begging for more. Besides, I'm  _much_  older, so my blood is far more powerful than that child you're so attached to. Keep that in mind," the sheriff replied. He cleared his throat and then turned serious. "I called the two of you here for a couple of reasons. Both of them will be of interest to you, I promise."

Sam sighed, irritated. "So go on, skip the suspense and tell us what you need us to know." He knew his pointed comments were likely to get him into trouble, but he had promised Tina to have the teen in bed earlier, and it was something he intended to do for the boy's own health.

"Well, first of all, your lackluster inspection of the crime site is an embarrassment," Sebastian stated arrogantly, tossing his hand aside flippantly. "Of course I followed up myself. There really wasn't much to find; however, I did take the time to do a little research after looking at their mangled corpses."

"Do you have to talk about them like that? They meant something to Rory. Show a little respect," Sam snapped. Rory reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing. Sam looked over at him, seeing the boy's urging stare to let it go.

Sebastian frowned at the outburst and continued his speech. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by nobody of import, I did a little research myself. There's a couple of possibilities for what could be committing these murders, neither of them easy to deal with."

"What are they?" Rory asked enthusiastically. He was willing to listen to any kind of answers that Sebastian may have, even if he was a pompous ass.

"What interested me was the way the bones were shattered. They looked to be shattered from the inside out, something that could only be accomplished by certain kinds of vibration. Vibration most likely created with sound waves."

The teen and the younger vampire exchanged confused glances. "Sound waves? Sound waves did this?" Sam asked. "I thought that was just comic book stuff! You know, nothing actually real!"

"Yes. I believe it was indeed sound waves," the older vampire replied, rolling his eyes at Sam's comic book reference. "Two potential culprits would be either a siren, or a banshee. Both of them are known for ultrasonic abilities. Sirens tend to be less on the blood and gore, usually preferring to use their songs to drag men to their deaths below the waves. Banshees are harbingers of death and are more on the violent side."

"Can I take a moment to point out that banshees are also an Irish native? And don't we have an Irish human in the room?" Santana mocked with a sarcastic grin. "Quit glaring, Sam. I don't mean he did it. But I think he's the reason the banshee is here."

Rory looked horrified. "Why would it come here, for me? I'm not anyone special! I'm just a student! What would a banshee want with me?" he cried out. "Unless it's me turn to die…"

"Nonsense. Now, that's the other tidbit of information we uncovered," Sebastian stated. "Based on the research, I believe that you, my attractive friend, may have traces of leprechaun in your lineage."

"Are ye' for real? Leprechaun? They're just an Irish story! They don't exist! They sit around making boots and shining shoes and granting wishes! It's all hogwash!" Rory protested angrily. "I don't do any o' those things! I can't e'en put a gel insert in me shoe by meself, let alone  _make_  a boot!"

Sebastian snickered. "Haven't you learned by now? The world is filled with so many things you'll never understand, boy. Vampires, werewolves, they're only the beginning. You didn't question the existence of a banshee or a siren, so why question the existence of leprechauns? What keeps them from being any more real than anything else?"

"I think you're full of shit, Sebastian. The banshee idea might be real, but really, leprechaun blood? Isn't that a little much?" Sam snapped sarcastically. "Try again."

"Believe me or not, it doesn't alter the fact that my suspicions are most likely correct. After all, you display some of the traits," he said, addressing Rory and ignoring Sam's insults.

"Traits, like what?" Rory demanded.

"Your little light shows? The mind reading? Just to name a couple of course," Sebastian answered calmly. "There's more, but you probably wouldn't be interested, since leprechauns don't exist."

Rory sighed. "Just tell me, please. I want t'know."  _What if he's right? What if I_ am _some sort of leprechaun or fairy or something?_

"Fine. According to my research, memories aren't the only thing you can steal from people. Supposedly, you can absorb people's lives. Their energy, in other words. You can steal it, store it, use it how you want. I'm guessing you haven't done that one yet?"

The teen shook his head. "No. It sounds awful. Like a-" He stopped himself before the words came out.

"Like a vampire?" Santana finished. "Instead of blood, you just drain energy. Don't act like you're better than us now," she said cockily. "If anything, you're much more dangerous than we could ever be. You can walk in the daylight."

"Stop it, Santana. He's not a vampire. He hasn't taken anyone's life, so you're wrong," Sam insisted, wrapping his arm around Rory's shoulders. "He just has a gift. An ability. It doesn't make him a little green-clothed man."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "You know better than that. Those myths are exaggerated, just like the ones about us. However, like the myths about us, there does exist some elements of truth. For example, leprechauns  _are_  shorter and smaller than the rest of us, which  _you_  obviously aren't," he went on, nodding toward Rory. "But I don't think you're full fledged either. I think you might just be partial, like a crossbreed."

"Like a dog," Santana added with a sneer.

"Shut up, Santana," Sam hissed back. "So let's say this is true. So what? Part leprechaun, part human, what difference does it make? What's it got to do with this banshee you think is haunting the area?"

The sheriff shrugged. "That I don't know. Maybe if it kills the boy, it gains his magic. Maybe it just wants to eat him because he will taste good over an open fire. The crucial thing is that it's here, it's doing damage, and we're taking the blame. It has to go. The sooner the better."

"Fine. So how do we kill it?" Sam asked, still agitated.

Sebastian shrugged. "No idea. All those books and websites and I couldn't find an answer to that. According to lore, it's a ghoul of sorts, which means it may very well not be corporeal. If that's the case, magic might be the only solution. Magic that you most likely don't believe in, either. In the meantime, trial and error I suppose. Find it, try to hack off its head. Drown it. Choke it. Shoot it with a gun with wooden bullets laced with silver. Make a list and see what works." At this point, he was getting agitated. He had done extensive research for these two and neither one of them had so much as said 'thank you'. Instead, they doubted him and even mocked him.

"That's helpful," Sam replied sarcastically. "I'll do whatever it takes to protect Rory. From banshees, or whatever else might be out there. You find a solution; I want to know. A  _real_  solution. I'm not seeking that thing out until we can kill it so your Russian Roulette game is a no go. The sooner we can end this, the better, because we have enough problems to worry about."

"You sure do like to make a lot of demands," Santana observed. "Especially for a child. So much like a brat. I guess you'll never grow up."

Sam was about to respond to her, but Sebastian spoke first. "He makes valid points, however. The sooner we end this invasion, the better. We  _do_  have enough problems already. One less worry would be nice," Sebastian stated. He then gave Sam his cold glare of disapproval. "I don't have anything else for you. If I find out anything, I might just tell you."

Sam huffed as he took Rory's hand again and started to leave. "Oh, Sam?" Sebastian called out, the young vampire and his boyfriend pausing and looking back. "You're lucky I don't  _demand_  something in return. I'd love to have what's yours, you know, but I have a little bit more class." He looked Rory over with a hungry glance, not blood thirsty, but lustful.

"Don't e'er look at me like that again," Rory said coldly. Sebastian grinned as he watched the two men leave the office.

"Feisty little fucker, isn't he?" Santana asked, sitting on the desk facing Sebastian.

"Yes. I like it," her maker said, still grinning widely. "It'll make it all the better when I finally get him to myself and own him. Mind, body, and soul. I'll have him at my feet, begging to be ravaged for hours on end all the while Sam is in silver shackles being forced to watch."

"Now you know I'm all for a little drama, but isn't that a bit much, even for you?"

"Perhaps, but it's been a long time since I had something to amuse me. I just want to give that smug child a little heartache for all that sass he keeps giving out," the sheriff replied. "Come, Santana. Let's go to ground. But first, a little time to ourselves, don't you think?"

The woman was already undressing, her long hair flowing around her, her eyes filled with lust and hunger.

-ooo-

The couple was quiet all the way back to Sam's house, Rory staring out the window, deep in thought. His hand lay at his side, Sam's fingers intertwined with his own in a simple sign of comfort. It was all too much information to process.

Back at home, they sat together on the couch, watching the news discussing the latest murder. This time it was a young man named Trent Nixon. He was a member of the Dalton Academy Warblers, one year older than Rory. The picture on the television showed a boy with a slightly husky face, but he looked kind, as if he wouldn't even harm a fly. It was sickening that someone like that would be brutally murdered for no reason at all except for the sheer amusement of some evil creature.

"Sam, do ye' think what Sebastian said was true? About… ye' know, the banshee and the leprechauns?" the teen finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sam pulled him closer, tightening his arms around him. "I honestly don't know. It would be a stupid thing for him to lie about. He has nothing to gain from it. I guess the really important question is, as far as the leprechauns go, do  _you_  believe him?"

Rory closed his eyes, trying to focus his mind. Sam didn't urge him any further, sensing the tension in his body as he mulled over the facts in his head. Finally, the teen spoke. "It kind o' makes sense I suppose. At least that I'm not completely human, that there's somethin' else inside me. How else could I explain me abilities? Especially the light and the heat?"

"True, though I don't really know how we would be able to find out for sure. Unless we found another leprechaun. You're not totally leprechaun though. You couldn't be. You have too many human qualities. And then there's the boot making. I just don't see it happening."

Rory cracked a half smile at his boyfriend's kind attempt at humor. "Do ye' think I'm the reason the banshee is here, killing people? Innocent people? Because it's after  _me_?" Rory asked, his breathing shallow, his heart pounding.

Sam refused to answer. In his heart, he believed that yes, it was here because of the leprechaun/human hybrid that sat in his lap, trembling lightly as he contemplated his role in the murders. At the same time, he didn't feel like the boy could be blamed for it, or held responsible. He didn't ask to be part leprechaun. He didn't ask to be followed. He didn't come to America seeking refuge and protection. No, he was simply an exchange student who happened to have extra abilities due to his bloodline, something he had no control over.

"Sam?"

"It's not your fault. It's here, but it's not your fault at all," Sam replied. "You didn't do this. Any of this."

Rory sighed, believing none of it. The banshee had come after him, and in the process it was killing whomever it wanted to, either for amusement, or sustenance, or even just its nature. The point was, it was because of him that the creature was there. He was just as responsible for the murders as the banshee.

"I know you don't agree," Sam said softly. "You didn't know. You didn't purposely bring it here. Who's to say this wouldn't have happened even back in Ireland? It would have done horrible things here, there, wherever it went. That doesn't mean that you can be held responsible." He thought that maybe, just maybe, if he said it enough the boy would begin to believe him.

There were several more minutes of awkward silence, Rory locked in deep thought again. His head was beginning to hurt as he felt himself becoming overwhelmed with information, guilt, and fear.

"What do we do when the banshee finds me?"

"Kill it. However we have to, we kill it. I won't let it hurt you," Sam vowed.

Rory looked back and smiled at the vampire, then gave him an innocent kiss on his thick lips. "Maybe I should learn to fight, too. How to use these… powers I 'ave. Maybe this heated light show can be, I dunno, controlled so I can use it against a… a monster."

"Monster, huh? I guess that's what you could call it. A monster, a banshee, a creature. Thing is, every time you've used those powers, it's left you weak and tired. How can you fight something if you end up incapacitated?" Sam asked, running his hand back and forth over the boy's chest.

I guess I 'ave to figure out a way to  _not_  'ave that happen. I 'ave to, Sam. I can't let other people protect me or fight for me if I can't even try to defend meself. It's not fair," Rory stated. "I don't want the people I love t'be hurt without even trying t'protect them meself."

"I understand. I'll help you find a way to control this. You can't be the first half-leprechaun in the world. Someone else must have been the same and documented it somewhere. They just  _had_  to." Rory snuggled up more comfortably in Sam's arms. "We shouldn't talk about this anymore tonight. Your friends were right, you need some real rest."

"I do feel tired. I need a good night's sleep," the teen replied. "We 'ave to tackle this some more tomorrow though. Promise?"

Sam smiled and nodded. "Yeah. I promise. We'll figure this out and send that banshee packing back where it came from. Right back to Hell."

They were silent again as the news went off and a comedy show came on. Sam chuckled randomly at the jokes, but he noticed Rory wasn't laughing at all.

"Are you okay? I know it's a lot to take in and think about," Sam asked, finding his boyfriend's hand and intertwining their fingers.

Rory sighed heavily. "I'm… I'm not human."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put it that way. You're human, you just have extra genes in there too. Like the way someone can be half Irish, half African," Sam said, trying to smooth over Rory's despair.

"No," the teen replied, shaking his head. "No, ye'r right. I'm not human. I'm something else. Just like ye'r a vampire and there's a banshee. I'm something not… Sam, I'm… what am I?" He leaned back and began to nuzzle his head in his boyfriend's chest, trying his best not to cry.

The vampire ran his fingers through the boy's hair with one hand and slowly stroked his arm with the other. "You're at least half human, just like your friends. Besides, it's not a bad thing to be something different. It's just one more thing that makes you special. It's part of your heritage. Instead of feeling less like a human, you should take pride in being part leprechaun. It's unique."

"I just want to be normal, Sam. No mind reading. No light shows. No leprechaunage. Just an average teenaged human boy with a vampire boyfriend."

Sam couldn't help but giggle. "An average human wouldn't  _have_  a vampire boyfriend. They'd have another average human, and you are far from average. I don't mean your abilities either. You're exceptional. Smart, mature, clever, loving. Average people aren't special at all. It's the people that have extraordinary traits that make them above average."

"Ye' mean humans aren't special?"

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean that the run of the mill person that you would call 'average' has nothing special about them. But people like you, like your friends, they're above average. Tina is an open-minded, compassionate young woman. I can tell that just from the few times I have met her. All of your friends are protective and caring. Even Kurt and Mercedes' unaccepting attitudes are part of what separates them from the average person. No, you are exceptional, just like your friends, and I wouldn't want it any other way," Sam explained. He could be long winded when he wanted to, but he had a way of making Rory feel better when he was feeling upset.

"It just… it's really upsetting to think I'm not a human. That I'm some sort of… creature."

The blonde hugged him tight, trying not to cry himself. "Even humans are a type of creature. Be proud of what you are. You're one of the last surviving leprechauns in the world I bet. That's even more amazing than being a vampire. Anyone can be a vampire, but you have to be really lucky to be a leprechaun, even if you're a hybrid."

"A hybrid?"

Sam grinned. "Yeah, a hybrid. Part human, part leprechaun. It's like the X-men. They're part human, part mutant. Humans with special abilities because of special genes in their bodies that happen to be passed down through generations until it finds the right person to manifest in. That's what you are. A human with special abilities because of unique genes in your body."

Rory finally smiled. "I guess that makes more sense. It's still a little weird though."

"Aww come on, go with it. Be a real life X-man! We can even give you a cool code name," Sam joked. "We could call you… Impact!"

"Impact? Why Impact?"

"Because your abilities are activated by touch, and another word for touch is impact. When you blasted Kurt with your power, it hit him with an impact. When you flew backwards at the bar, you landed in my arms with an impact. Get it?"

Rory started to laugh crazily. "Oh me God Sam, I love ye' so much! Ye' know just how to cheer me up with some silly little game! Thank ye', I really do feel better now." He yawned between peals of laughter, his sleepiness getting the better of him.

Sam wiggled out from under his boyfriend and gently lifted him up into his arms. In vampire speed, he had Rory in his bed, comfortable and already beginning to doze.

"I'm going to let you sleep. Sweet dreams. I love you, very much," Sam said, brushing the hair from the teen's forehead with his hand before leaning down to kiss him.

"Good night, Sam. I love ye' too. I wish I could wake up next to ye'."

Sam gave him a half smile. "Maybe someday," he said softly. He had to turn away to hide the blood-red tears that were welling up at the corners of his eyes as his heart ached for the very same thing—to wake up next to the boy he loved so much.

-ooo-

"Did you really do all that research yourself?" Santana asked as she ran her hand across Sebastian's bare chest.

"You doubt me?" the maker asked coyly, pushing her hand away.

Santana sighed. "It just isn't like you to do so much work over a boy. Usually it's just a simple glamour and they fall at your feet. Even without glamour most guys throw themselves before you. If you can have any of them, why go through so much for this one?"

Sebastian kicked his feet off of the bed, tossing the covers off and standing up, completely nude. He walked over to a small table across the room, a bottle of Tru Blood sitting atop it. He took a sip before he addressed her.

"I told you, he's a challenge. Besides, if he can be of help solving these murders, even better. The banshee suspicion isn't bullshit. Neither are the leprechauns," he said, picking up a notebook that was also on the table. He tossed it to her, the woman catching it in midair. She opened it and began to read over it at remarkable speed.

_Leprechauns are thought to be extinct. None have been found in centuries. True leprechauns don't follow the stereotypes. Look like normal people, sometimes can be proportionately shorter than average but not always. Abilities…_

"Taking notes? This seems pretty basic, Sebastian," the woman chided. "They made Microsoft Word for a reason."

"Keep reading, smartass," Sebastian replied, annoyed.

_Abilities: Mind reading, life draining, golden energy bursts. Lore suggests mind reading enabled them to discover people's deepest secrets and desires. Like all fae, they have control over light to an extent, channeling it into bursts of energy. They can drain the life of others to sustain their own lives. Not critical but lengthens the life span and increases power of abilities._

This didn't appear to be anything she didn't already know from the conversation in the office earlier, but at Sebastian's insistence, she turned the page and read on.

_Rory: Exhibits mind reading capabilities, but claims to only read memories, not active thoughts. Extreme focusing caused dangerous results, including burning, blistering, bursts of energy, and being thrown_ _across the room. Extreme headache. Extreme fatigue. Sam prevents further exploration._

Santana scoffed. "How special. Sam gets a mention in your notes. You realize you'll never have Rory until you get rid of that man. Sam will meet the true death before he lets anything happen to that boy."

Sebastian smiled, licking the blood from his lips. "I have my ways. If I can get Rory to drink a little bit of my blood, for instance… he won't be able to stop thinking about me, and I'll know where he is myself."

The thrall glanced over at the digital clock, rolling her eyes. "As fascinating as this is, we need to get to ground. Too close to dawn. I'm sure you'll have plenty of wet dreams about your new obsession to keep you occupied."

"Jealousy doesn't become you, Santana."

"I'm not jealous. Merely concerned," she replied, tossing back the covers and getting up. She approached the bookcase on the far end of the room, fiddled with a trio of books, and in stereotypical mystery fashion, it slid sideways, revealing a staircase. She quickly descended, her heavy footsteps betraying her icy exterior, exposing her true feelings.

-ooo-

Rory slept heavily, finally getting the solid night's sleep that he needed badly. He didn't wake up until eleven in the morning, feeling guilty for sleeping so late, but completely refreshed. He took a shower, put on his work clothes, and decided to have an early lunch. Tina would arrive shortly before one in the afternoon to pick him up for work, so he had plenty of time to eat.

A note was stuck to the fridge with a magnet, written in Sam's sloppy handwriting.

_Since we didn't make it last night, I went to the store after you went to sleep. I asked the lady what a teenager would eat. She looked at me funny but helped me out anyway_ _. I hope you like what I got. If not, we can make a proper visit to the store. Have a good day at work, and I will pick you up at the end of your shift. I love you. Yours, Sam_

Rory smiled at the note. He could only imagine what the clerk must have been thinking when someone who  _looks_  like a modern teenager inquired about what a teen would eat. He wondered if Sam explained the situation to her or not, or if she just went along with it without question. He opened the fridge to find a much better selection of food than before. Two kinds of lunchmeat, cheese, mustard, mayo, grape jelly, soda, fruit juice, and a bowl containing an apple, an orange, grapes, and a banana.

He checked out the freezer next and found frozen pizzas—pepperoni and supreme-and two kinds of ice cream—Neapolitan and Rocky Road. Apparently Sam was covering all his bases. A bag of plain potato chips as well as a bag of nachos sat on the countertop, as well as a loaf of bread and a fresh jar of peanut butter.

He decided to fix himself a ham sandwich, slice up the apple, and have a handful of chips with a cherry cola. It was partially healthy at least. Finishing his lunch, he scribbled a quick note for Sam and left it on his desk.

_I love you. Thanks for the food, it's great! See you tonight._

He signed it with  _Rory xoxo._

Just as he finished, he heard the doorbell ring. Tina had arrived to take him to work.

-ooo-

Sam arrived a half hour before closing time, ordered a Tru Blood (AB Negative this time), and sat at the bar, trying to strike up idle conversation with Mercedes. The young woman traded words back and forth with him, though it was obvious she was anxious for him to leave. The blonde silently wished that she and Kurt could both be as accepting of him as Tina was.

Rory finished his closing duties and then joined Sam at the bar, throwing his arm around him. "Are ye' ready t'go? Been a long day," the teen said.

"Sure, if you're ready. Did you eat dinner?"

Rory shrugged his shoulders. "I had a snack a couple of hours ago, but that's it. I can fix something when we get back t'the house," he replied. Sam nodded and said a quick farewell to Mercedes, and gave a wave to Tina who was on the other side of the room.

Outside, Kurt was standing next to a car Sam hadn't seen before. It was a large, deep-red SUV, a handsome black-haired man sitting in the driver's seat with the window down, talking to Kurt. Sam's excellent hearing couldn't help but pick up what they were saying.

"That's him," Kurt said, looking back toward the vampire and his charge. He gave a half-hearted wave out of politeness before turning back around and rolling his eyes. "What do you think, Blaine?"

The dark-haired man shrugged. "He doesn't look threatening to me. In fact, Rory looks happy. Maybe the craft is wrong about them. Vampires I mean. Maybe some of them are okay."

Kurt scowled. "Hardly. Rory insists he can't have that spell put on him, but the way he is just enthralled with him, I don't know."

Blaine reached out of the window and took Kurt's hand. "Rory's sixteen, Kurt. A mature sixteen at that. Maybe we should put a little bit of faith in his judgment."

"You're supposed to be on  _my_  side," Kurt hissed.

"I am. That's why I'm still going to be researching. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I want to know what we're dealing with, too. Just in case," Blaine replied with a coy smile. "You know I have your back, but I want to be reasonable, too."

Sam stopped listening at that point, annoyed that Kurt was so hell-bent on making him out to be a bad guy. Sam's days of trouble were done and over, and all he wanted was to be as close to human as he could manage. For the most part he succeeded, and having the luxury of a relationship now only made him feel more like things were going well.

"I think I like this Blaine guy," the vampire whispered to his boyfriend as he climbed into the driver's seat and started up the truck. "I could hear them. He was open minded, like Tina. Maybe he can convince Kurt I'm not such a bad guy."

Rory smirked. "When Kurt has his head set on something, that's the way of it. I don't know Blaine very well, but he's a man-witch and seems really nice."

"A warlock you mean," Sam corrected, giggling. "Ah, a man-witch. You, sir, are the most adorable thing in this world," he added, smiling. Rory playfully scowled at him in mock-offense, and then found the vampire's cool hand and latched on tight the entire ride home.

-ooo-

When they arrived home, Rory paused once he got out of the car, looking down at his hands.

"Something wrong?" Sam asked, watching him.

Rory looked back up at him, his eyes filled with wonder. "Do ye' think I can… control it?" he asked, nodding toward his hands.

"I don't know. Maybe. You need to be careful though, it seems like every time you've zapped somebody, it's weakened you," Sam cautioned.

The teen stared down at his hands again, locked in thought.  _I have to figure this out. I have to find out how I can control this, so I can protect meself, and me friends. And Sam. We don't know what else the banshee is capable of. I don't want it to hurt him. What it did to Mr. and Mrs. Pierce and Lord Tubbington is unforgivable. I don't want to see it happen to anyone else. I have to at least try to destroy the damned thing._

He held his hands in front of him, turning to face the woods. He stood there, silent, concentrating.  _Come on, blast out of me hands. Light up. Heat up. Flash, sparkle, do_ something,  _anything. Even a spark would be nice._

He was beginning to feel frustrated when suddenly he noticed his hands warming up. They didn't feel hot, just warm as if he had just come out of a heated shower. There began a tingling in his fingertips, his palms getting warmer still. His hands began to glow a faint yellow color, barely noticeable. Repeating a mantra of 'come on, blast!' in his head, he felt the sensations increase in intensity, the glowing getting brighter.

Suddenly there was a bright flash and something came out of his palms, rushing forward like a surge of golden electricity. His hands burned and tingled, glowing brightly and then fading away as whatever came out of them had finished occurring.

Cautiously, Rory stepped forward toward the tree in front of him. There were tiny sparks still twinkling faintly from a medium-sized rupture in the trunk of the wide tree. He pressed his fingers against the wound—hot. Not hot enough to burn, but hot enough to make him jerk his hand back. He then saw another hand—Sam's hand—touching the same tree.

"Wow. That was amazing," Sam commented, looking down at the boy and back to the tree. "You  _can_  control it. I knew you had to be able to. How do you feel?"

"A little tired, but I felt that before. D'ye think that maybe when I try to do it, I'm okay? That I only feel bad when I do it on accident?"

Sam shrugged. "I… I don't know. This whole ability is pretty unpredictable. Dangerously so. Come on, let's go inside. You need to eat before it gets too late. We'll stay up until midnight and then you can go to bed. I don't want Tina to fuss at me again," he laughed.

Rory smiled and wrapped his arms around Sam before they went back to the house. Before closing the door, Rory looked back one more time at the tree, the sparkles having gone away completely.

-ooo-

The next morning, against Sam's advisory, Rory stood in the yard behind the house, shaded by a forest of trees, a look of determination on his face. He was wearing gym shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, ready for a workout. First he did some warm up conditioning followed by a jog up and down the long driveway a few times. Just enough for some exercise but not enough to aggravate his shin splints. Now in the backyard, he was ready for what he really came out to do.

As he had done the night before, he put his hands out in front of him, fingers apart. He closed his eyes and concentrated, picturing in his mind what he wanted to happen. He imagined his hands glowing, heating up, and then finally a bright flash and a burst of energy shooting forward toward the tree in front of him. He took deep breaths as he focused, his goal finally being met just as he had pictured it in his mind.

The blast of energy slammed into the tree, a loud cracking sound filling the air as the tree's trunk shot shards of wood from the contact point. It was much more violent than the previous night's experiment.

"Wow!" he said aloud. He approached the tree and felt the fresh wound, feeling the warmth he expected and noticing slight sparks that faded into nothing. He was mesmerized by the effect, still having trouble believing that he had just caused this to happen.

Rory suddenly heard a barking behind him, causing him to spin around, alarmed. His eyes scanned the area, spotting the source. It was a dog, a golden lab, sitting on the porch, watching him and yelping. He couldn't tell if it was disapproval or congratulations.

"Where did ye' come from?" the teen asked, moving closer to the dog. It seemed calm, not moving at all, just watching. Rory put out his hand as he got nearer. "Just gonna give ye' a little pet here," he said, finally making contact and stroking the dog's head, the fur feeling surprisingly clean under his palm. The dog's head moved, reaching around to lick his hand in appreciation. Rory crouched down next to him and continued to pet him, scratching at his belly and rubbing his back. The lab seemed very happy, as if it had been waiting for years to be treated with such care.

"I wonder what ye'r name is," Rory said. "No collar. Are ye' a stray? Homeless? If ye' don't 'ave a home, maybe Sam will let me keep ye'. Maybe ye' know the dog I saved before. Ye' might e'en be friends, eh?"

The dog licked his hand again, rubbing his head against Rory's leg. "What did ye' think of me' little light show there?" he asked. The dog rubbed his nose against the boy's hand enthusiastically as if asking for another demonstration.

Rory chuckled and got up, strolling back toward the same spot he was at before. "Okay boy, watch me. This time I'll see if I can make it bigger!"

With that, Rory faced the tree once again, his hands outstretched in front of him. He began to focus, imagining the same thing as before, but this time picturing the blast as a larger beam of energy. Within seconds he felt his hands burn hot, and the surge of power ran through them.

There was a louder cracking sound than before as the beam hit the tree, followed by a splintering noise as the old oak split right up the middle from base to top. When he opened his eyes, the tree was already falling toward him. Well, half of it. The other half had fallen backward, deeper into the woods. He didn't have time to react, it came down so fast. He expected to feel the slam of the wood onto his body, expected to be knocked down and hammered into the ground like in a cartoon. The feeling never came.

When he finally realized the tree had stopped falling, he moved from underneath it, looking around the base of the trunk. Standing there, holding the tree up was Mike—a very naked Mike. Seeing his friend was safe, the man let go and let the old oak settle to the ground.

"Mike! What are ye' doing here!? And uh, where are ye'r clothes?" Rory exclaimed, blushing and turning away.

Mike, not embarrassed by his nudity, approached his friend, putting his hand on his shoulder. "You can turn around. I'm not worried."

Rory nervously turned forward again, forcing himself to keep his eyes on Mike's face. What happened next could only be explained as surreal. Mike seemed to shrink, as if crouching down and his body looked to be furry, his head changing shape. In a blur of flesh, Rory was no longer staring at Mike Chang, but at the golden lab he had just been petting.

His mouth agape, the teen watched as the dog blurred again, suddenly replaced by Mike's body. Rory began to back away nervously. "Wha-what are ye'?"

Mike smiled. "I'm what's called a shifter. Like you, I have special gifts, except instead of reading minds and controlling energy, I can shift my body into the form of any animal I choose. A few minutes ago, I was watching you, as the dog."

Rory suddenly looked horrified. "What!? Ye' mean…? I was just pettin' ye'! Ye' licked me hands and put ye'r nose all over me leg and hand! I rubbed ye'r belly!"

Mike laughed. "Well, yes, you did, but you thought I was a dog, and at that time I  _was_."

The teen started to rub his hands all over his shorts as if trying to rid them of germs. "But… eww! That's weird! It was ye'r belly! I was  _this_  close to ye'r… ye'r stuff!" he exclaimed. "I wouldn't do that  _now_ , so it's not okay just because ye' were a dog!"

Mike continued to laugh, amused by the boy's reaction. It was actually the first time anyone had reacted that way. The select few who knew hadn't even thought about the fact that they had petted him, played with him, rubbed his belly. They were more interested in the fact that he could even shift, and what else he could shift into.

"Don't worry about it. Come on, let's talk. But uh, if you don't mind can we go inside? I don't want to chance anyone spotting me, especially running around naked in your backyard."

Rory nodded, leading his friend into the house. He showed Mike to the living room while he ran upstairs to fetch a robe for him to wear. Mike slipped it on, then sat down on the couch. "Mind if I have some water? I'm parched from the heat."

"Oh yeah, sure. I'm sorry, I'm a poor host," the teen apologized, heading to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. He handed it to Mike, who drank it thirstily.

"Thanks," the man said. "Now, we definitely need to talk, especially because I know you're a little freaked out, and I need to explain all this to you, and also why I was here, watching you in the first place."

"Yes, why were ye' watchin' me? Don't ye' trust Sam t'take care o'me?"

Mike smiled and nodded. "I believe he is capable, yes. At night. Not during the day. We don't know everything about this enemy that's after you; we need to keep you safe at all hours."

Rory was puzzled. He hadn't mentioned anything about the banshee to him before, and yet he knew at least that  _something_  was after him. Either that or Mike was simply concerned with the supposed murderer and wanted to protect a friend who had already been victim to a grisly experience. "How do ye' know somethin' is after me? Where did ye' hear that?"

The Asian man grinned. "You're not the only one who paid a visit to Sebastian. He can be… difficult to persuade, but after some tough bartering, he gave me the information I was looking for."

"Tough bartering? What did ye' 'ave to give him?" Rory asked, a worried look crossing his features. "And how do ye' know Sebastian?"

"Don't worry about the cost. I know Sebastian simply from the fact that he owns another major business in the area. A good manager researches his competition, and in the process I learned that he was not only the sheriff, but also over a thousand years old. A valuable source of information indeed," the other man said firmly. There was no way he intended to ever tell the boy what he had traded for information. In truth, he had allowed Sebastian to drink from him. Shifter blood wasn't very common, and it had a certain appeal to vampires, augmenting their strength and healing slightly, as well as giving them a certain 'high'. It was like marijuana for a vampire, and Mike had given up an entire pint for what he wanted.

"If it cost money, I'm sure Sam will pay ye' back. Especially if ye'r watchin' out for me," Rory told him.

"I said don't worry about it," Mike repeated sternly. "What you need to know for now, is that you will have a guard during the day. You will have the protection of more than one shifter, as we will be taking turns on watch. Sam will take guard during the dark hours."

It was a lot for Rory to digest. Leprechauns, banshees, magic powers, shapeshifters. He was afraid to ask what else there was, but unfortunately Mike began to tell him.

"Most of the time, you don't really need to worry about these creatures. Werewolves, werepanthers, they have a pack mentality, and as long as you leave them alone, they leave you alone. If you don't do anything that's a threat to them, you'll be fine. In other words, as long as you go on about your daily life, you will undoubtedly never have an issue with either of them," Mike explained. "Shifters don't have the pack mentality, but odds are that if you don't threaten them, they won't bother you. Really the various species aren't out to destroy or harm each other."

"Then why the fear with the vampires? Why are they such a big deal to worry about?"

The Asian sighed deeply. "See, weres and shifters in their human forms eat normal food. In animal form, we can dine on other animals, just like normal beasts. Vampires, however, survive on blood. Human blood. The only way to get it is if they take it. Now, though, with Tru Blood they are becoming less of a threat and more of a mainstream species. As long as they can have their Tru Blood, there's no need to feed on humans."

"Well all that sounds pretty simple then. E'eryone leaves e'eryone else alone."

Mike shook his head. "Not that simple. Not all vampires are okay with this. Some of them still like the way of draining humans, and have no intention to mainstream. That's why there's so little trust, because you never know exactly which vampires are going to feed on humans."

"Well Sam doesn't feed on humans. He drinks his Tru Blood, so ye' can trust him."

"He drank you," Mike pointed out.

Rory blushed. "It was… I allowed him to. I asked him to. It was during… it was private. Trust me, though. He had me permission, and he would ne'er do it without me say so."

Mike gave him a look of disapproval. "You're treading on a thin wire with that, but I can't stop you. Lust can make us do foolish things. As can love."

"What else is there? Creatures, monsters, whatever?" Rory asked, hurriedly changing the subject to avoid further embarrassment.

"Tons of things. Fairytales are often based in truth. There are many different species out there, most who just want to live their normal lives, however they do it. They don't want trouble. But then there are ones like this banshee, who have an agenda. Those are the ones that are dangerous."

Rory mulled this information over, realizing that just when he thought he was getting a grasp on things, there really was so much more going on in the world that he didn't know.

"What's wrong?" Mike asked, noticing the look of sadness and confusion on the boy's face. "Too much at one time, huh?"

The teen nodded his head. "Yeah, it's a lot. A whole lot. So much more than I e'er thought. I mean, I knew something was different about me, but I didn't think there was so much out there—these different species o' humans and animals and little magical people and stuff. It's a lot to take in."

Mike put his hand on Rory's shoulder in a sign of comfort. "You don't have to try and digest it all at once. There's only three things you really need to be concerned with right now. Your abilities and role as a leprechaun, Sam's ability to protect you as a vampire, and keeping this banshee at bay."

"I thought ye' said ye' were gonna watch out for me during the day," the teen pointed out.

"Okay, so four things. My point is, right now, you don't need to worry about werewolves and panthers, witches, fairies and all those other things. Face all that later."

Rory let the side of his mouth turn up a little in a half smile. "Thank ye', Mike. I hope we get this whole thing o'er with soon, so ye' can go back to ye'r normal life. I hate being a burden on people. I don't like t'be a bother to anyone."

"Sam doesn't think you're a bother, and neither do I. I'm your friend. I might be your boss, but I'm your friend first and your safety is important to me. And to Tina, Kurt, Mercedes, Brittany. You have more people watching out for you than you think."

Mike's words settled into Rory's head. He was right, Rory did have a lot more people looking out for his safety, even if some of them didn't have special abilities. They may not be able to protect him from the banshee, but they could help him emotionally, when he needed them to, and he could help them, even without his powers. It was those words that were most important throughout the entire conversation.

-ooo-

The year was 1923 and Sam was finally settled in on his own after decades of being with his maker, living in a cave, and other random places. He had scouted out a cottage where an old couple lived. Refusing to murder them, he simply waited. After a year of watching, the old couple finally passed within a few days of each other, having suffered an intense case of polio. Polio was the dominant infectious disease at the time, and being old and weak, they stood no chance against the virus. No one ever came for their bodes. In an act of humanity, Sam took their coprses and buried them in the backyard—a pair of unmarked graves. It was the decent thing to do, as he couldn't bear the idea of doing anything else with the deceased humans.

The old couple apparently had no family around, so nobody ever came to the cottage when they were alive and surely not after their deaths. The cabin was very small, but all Sam needed. He cut down a very large and thick oak tree and carved out of it a coffin for himself. It just barely had room for him, but it served the purpose. He kept it in the back room, using the old woman's hand sewn curtains to block out the sunlight during the day. The couple had very few possessions, but they had enough for him to survive on. Chairs, tables, some books that he tried to read but couldn't. The woman had sewing and knitting that remained unfinished and the old man had carvings and hides. He had been reading one of the novels before he died, the book sitting on the small table next to the rocking chair. His clothing wasn't in the best condition, but it was warm and more than Sam had at the time.

Sam had no desire to return to his days of raping and murdering, so whenever his hunger became too great, he would wait until nightfall and go into town where he would find a young woman and use his charms to convince her to come home with him. They would make love and in the process he would feed on her, but not enough to kill her. He would glamour her so that she remembered nothing of the attractive blonde stranger, and attributed her weakness to a bout of illness. He found this to be much more of a humane system for himself as opposed to simply abducting people and feeding on them until they perished. He never preyed on the same woman twice, not wanting to risk forming an emotional attachment. The pain would be too great.

Eventually he came across a beautiful young woman whom he tried to glamour, except it wouldn't work. It had to be another vampire, the only beings he knew of that were immune to the glamour. They exchanged a silent understanding of what was going on and moved to some place more private—his cottage. She introduced herself as Marley- Marley Rose—a former teacher over two hundred years old. Teachers back then were very different, their tasks being much more difficult than in current times, but of course her teaching skills had changed over the decades. No longer did she teach reading, writing, and arithmetic—she taught orphaned vampires how to survive on their own. Marley had been watching Sam for quite some time, entranced by his handsome face. He invited her back to his home, where they talked into the night. When dawn came, she left for her own residence but after several nights of meeting, they began to form a bond, a friendship. Sam confessed his inability to read and begged her to teach him. She agreed and over the years their friendship developed into a sexual relationship.

They were not a couple; they were merely friends with a close bond, both physical and emotional. Marley admired Sam's retention of humanity and the pair often found themselves bringing home a young woman, or a young man, to satisfy their needs before sending them home for a good rest to recover. Marley was impressed with the way her new friend had managed to take care of himself, despite his 'orphaned' status.

It was during one such incident that Marley introduced Sam to the idea of being with a man.  _You're going to live for hundreds, thousands of years. It's time to open your mind to new experiences,_  she had said.  _Just try it, for me. Then you'll know._ Sam agreed and they brought home a handsome young man, one whom they had observed all evening, determining his persuasions.

The young man was very much a bisexual, having flirted openly with both genders. Marley glamoured him, telling him that Sam was a virgin, needing to experience a man for the first time. The idea of deflowering a man as attractive as Sam appealed to him—glamour or not. First he drew Sam into a kiss, which turned into several more kisses until they were vigorously making out. They quickly removed their clothing, and the young man took the lead, giving Sam his pleasure first, before taking his own. Marley watched in eager fascination as her best friend experienced his first man, her fingers working herself into a fervor.

_That was amazing. I want to do it again. I want to do more, lots more,_  Sam had told her afterward. From then on, they enjoyed both genders on a regular basis, Sam even seeking out men on his own at times.

It was one evening in the sixties when things got out of hand, and Sam lost something dear to him for the first time since his transformation. The pair was wooing a young man at a pub, when the bartender recognized what was going on. He didn't fully understand how it was working, but he knew that these two people were monsters—the kind of monsters that had become more and more prevalent over the years.

As Sam and Marley left the bar with their chosen, they were greeted by the bartender upon turning down the alley behind the bar. In one hand he held a pistol and in the other, a long wooden rod, sharpened to a point at one end. A confrontation ensued, but in the end the man succeeded in driving the wooden spear through Marley's heart, forcing her to meet the true death. In a rage, Sam attacked him mercilessly, holding the man down and torturing him with fear before slaughtering him. He ripped the man's heart out, and just before he faded away into the darkness, Sam sank his teeth into the pulsing organ, causing it to explode in his hand and all over the face of the brutalized tender.

Sam spent the next several months in mourning, both for Marley and for his irrational action. He was torn—the man killed his closest and only friend, someone like family to him. He took away the only person he had in his life at the time. But Sam had also vowed to himself to retain as much of his humanity as possible, refusing to murder, and instead stick to his routine. Losing control on the bartender wiped out everything he had struggled to be over the years, and it tore him apart. He drew himself into reclusiveness for the next two years, feeding only on animals.

He eventually had a dream, something he sensed was a vision, of Marley begging him to move on with his afterlife, to find another companion, to put it all in the past, to forgive himself for his transgression, and to start over. He awoke the next evening, his face covered in bloody tears as he heeded Marley's words, forcing himself to return to his normal routine until he found something else for himself.

Filled with a new sense of purpose, the young vampire sought out Marley's home; a place he had never actually been to. Marley enjoyed the charm of Sam's cabin so much that she had little desire to return to her mansion, so it was never visited. In fact it had been twelve years since her last stay in the Rose home. Her family had owned it since it was built in the 1800's. Knowing that if he kept the home, he would only obsess and drive himself back into misery, he sold the property and many of the belongings inside, keeping the newfound fortune to begin anew—his third chance at making an existence better suited to himself.

-ooo-

Sam awoke midday, something he never did. He had dreamt about his past, dreamt about the time from when he had been abandoned, to spying on his family, to meeting Marley and her unfortunate death. He prayed that Rory never asked for more details, because he was so ashamed of what he had done. He could surely refuse to tell him, or lie, but he was dedicated to the teen and determined to always be honest with him, no matter the consequences.

He fell back asleep not long after his abrupt disturbance, having a dreamless sleep the rest of the day, waking at dusk to get ready for the evening. When he turned off the shower he could have sworn he heard a voice singing. A soft, feminine voice, way off in the distance. It was beautiful. Shrugging it off, he finished his routine, and then headed to the Lima Bean to pick up his boyfriend.

-ooo-

When Sam arrived at the Lima Bean, he could hear the singing more loudly. It was when he walked into the establishment that he discovered a young woman standing on stage, rehearsing a song. She winked at him when she took notice of the new arrival. Sam smiled and nodded to her politely, but focused his attention on finding Rory.

The teen was just finishing up turning in his tickets and registering his tips on the log. While Sam waited, he chatted casually with Tina.

"Are you coming to the big performance? We've heard her rehearsing and she's great," Tina asked him, referring to opening night for the live entertainment.

"If Rory wants to come, then yes. I'd love to accompany him."

"He'll be here. He's on the schedule to work until close. All of us are, actually. It'll be a little later than usual because of the show, but I can't imagine that'd bother you too much," Tina replied, smiling. "You know you're welcome here with or without him."

Sam gave her a nod and a grin. "Thank you for the extended invite," he said. "I will definitely be here, then. It sounds like it will be fun."

"Oh it will be! Lots of food, drinks, music, and dancing! I even made sure Mike ordered some fresh Tru Blood for our vampire customers! Oh, and don't worry, we're each taking turns with breaks so you can dance with Rory, too," she told him cheerily.

Rory walked up to join them, finished with his tasks. "Hi, Sam," he said, hugging the older teen.

"Hello, handsome," Sam said with a cheesy grin. "Tina was just convincing me to come to the big performance. I think she's sold me on it." Rory beamed, pleased to hear that the vampire had agreed to attend the big event.

"You ready to go?" Sam asked. He hoped so. While Tina was incredibly friendly, he could feel the judgmental eyes of Mercedes and Kurt watching him from the bar.

"Yeah. Kind of hungry, and I was kind of hoping ye'd tell me another story from when ye' were human. I loved hearing about ye'r past."

"Oh, I bet it's fascinating!" Tina interjected. "I bet you have a lot to tell over the years. Seen a lot happen, new inventions. I'd love to hear some of your stories sometime. I mean if they aren't too private."

The vampire gave her a kind smile. "Not at all. One evening I'll have to share some with you. It really is amazing what I've seen in a hundred and seventy years."

"Hmph. He's robbin the cradle," Mercedes snickered to Kurt from her place at the bar. "That's what, a hundred and fifty-four years difference?"

"Sounds about right. You have to admit, he's very attractive. He doesn't look that old," Kurt replied. Mercedes glared at him disapprovingly. "I was simply saying. I still don't trust him. Handsome or not, he's bad news."

"What about Blaine? Has he come up with anything regarding that weird flashy thing Rory did to you?" the woman asked, lowering her voice. While she didn't care if the vampire heard her snide remarks, she seemed oddly concerned if she was overheard discussing Rory and his abilities.

Kurt sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "No, nothing yet. He said since Rory didn't say any kind of incantation or use any kind of talismans or ingredients, it couldn't be witchcraft. He's still looking into it. I told him to check and see if there are any kind of side effects of vampire bites that might give him some sort of magic, but he said so far, aside from weakness and fatigue or death, there isn't much else for side effects from a bite," Kurt explained. "I hope he finds something soon. It could be dangerous. I don't want to see anything happen to our friend."

Mercedes nodded, saying nothing else. She was disappointed, having hopes that Blaine would dismiss it as witchcraft and they could have some sort of intervention. Witchcraft was much easier to accept since she had actually seen it work for herself. Blaine was an incredibly talented and powerful Wiccan and she was lucky enough to have witnessed him performing some of his craft.

Sam and Rory bid Tina goodnight, giving polite waves to the harsh stares of Kurt and Mercedes. The bigoted words of the pair still hurt the vampire's feelings, but there was no way he was going to express his continued upset to his young boyfriend. If Rory knew how much it was getting to him, he might end up in a confrontation, and the last thing Sam wanted was to drive a wedge between friendships.

-ooo-

Sam sat at the table, watching his boyfriend eating his dinner. Feeling lazy, Rory had requested a stop at a fast food restaurant, ordering a burger and fries with a vanilla milkshake.

"Do ye' think if ye' mixed some Tru Blood in it, ye' could try it?" the anxious teen asked.

"I honestly don't know. I'm not sure I  _should_  try it. It could make me sick," Sam answered. "I wish I could though. It sounds like it would be delicious. Frozen milk and cream. I bet the cows don't like being in the freezer."

Rory laughed loudly. "Oh Sam, they don't put the cows in the freezer! They put the milk and cream in a machine and it mixes it and keeps it cold!"

"I know, I was teasing. I'm not  _that_  dumb." He childishly stuck out his tongue and then took a swig of his Tru Blood: Type O Negative. "So, what do you want to hear about? My human life was relatively boring compared to what people have today."

The teen shrugged, taking a bite from his burger. He swallowed, sucked down some of his shake and then answered. "How about ye' tell me what happened with ye'r friend, then? The woman? Ye' said she was a teacher who helped ye' and all."

"I… maybe another time for that one," the vampire hesitated, a forlorn look crossing his features.

Rory blushed, embarrassed that he had asked something so personal. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset ye'."

Sam shook his head. "No, it's okay. It's just that last night I had this dream about it all. Like a real vivid memory in my sleep. It was from the time my maker left me until Marley—that was her name, Marley Rose—met the true death. That changed my life quite a bit."

"Ye' don't 'ave to talk about it. How about…" the teen thought hard, trying to find a way to change the subject but still get an intriguing tale from the man. "How about ye' tell me one of the neatest inventions ye' saw. I mean, ye' got t'see cars and computers and TV and microwaves!"

The older teen laughed at the boy's excitement. "Alright, I can do that."

When Rory finished the last of his dinner, Sam ushered him into the living room, onto the couch. "Wait here," the vampire said softly, walking out of the room. A few moments later, he returned with two wine glasses. One of them was filled with the deep red of fresh Tru Blood; the other contained a fine red wine.

"Try this, see if you like it. If you don't, I can pour you something else," Sam said, sitting down next to his boyfriend. He leaned back comfortably, watching the boy as he considered the glass.

The teen lifted the glass to his lips and carefully tilted it back, letting the red liquid coat his tongue and slide down his throat. It tasted a bit strange at first—Rory hadn't had any kind of alcohol before—but after another sip, he was already used to the flavor. Sam reached over and gently placed fingertips on the boy's anxious hand.

"Sip, not chug. You don't drink a wine all at once. You nurse the glass, making it last for a while. That will help soothe you, relax you, as opposed to getting the 'buzz' people make such a big deal about," the older man explained.

Rory blushed at his over eagerness, setting the glass on the table. He pulled his feet up onto the cushions and leaned against the back of the couch, smiling contentedly. He gazed into Sam's bright green eyes, momentarily forgetting what they even came to the couch for. He finally blinked, breaking the stare.

"So, you want to hear about the things I saw as I aged," Sam stated. "There's so much to tell I suppose, if I really wanted to go into detail. You have to keep in mind, I had to experience everything at night, so while I did see a lot in my time, I also missed some as well."

The younger teen reached forward with his hand and placed it on his boyfriend's, having long ago lost any bother by the cooler touch of his skin. "Just tell me about what ye' remember. What it was like seein' so many things coming about. I mean, there's new stuff now, but nothing like what ye' must 'ave seen."

"That's true. Most of what we have now are simply evolutions of existing ideas—cars, computers, technology in general. I saw it being birthed."

Rory listened intently as Sam went on to explain the many things he had experienced over the decades. He had seen rise of the automobile, mainstream use of electricity, flight, several wars, The Great Depression. He had seen decades of happiness and sadness, prosperity and poverty. Sam told him how the things he had experienced were still nothing compared to the millennia that vampires such as Sebastian had seen—vampires who were sixteen centuries old. Never once did Rory get bored, or ask for a break. He simply gazed in wonderment, listening to the words and watching the occasional gestures that Sam made.

By the time Sam was finished recounting his tales, it was well past midnight. They spent the remainder of the evening watching a movie, Sam sitting back on the couch, Rory leaning back against his boyfriend's chest. They stayed in that position as the young teen fell asleep. Sam refused to move; he had no desire to disrupt the sleep of his prince. As he sat listening to the even breathing of the boy, he could hear in the distance the beautiful singing of a woman. Before when he heard it, he dismissed it as just some girl testing her talent, but now he knew what it really was. The banshee's wailing into the night.

 


	8. Season 1, Episode 8: I Plead Insanity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Author's Notes: I don't really have anything interesting to say here this time. :p Just cater to my deflated ego and leave me reviews. ^_^_  
>  ****  
> Beta Credit: TVTime

**Season 1, Episode 8: I Plead Insanity**

The Lima Bean was much more crowded than usual thanks to the promise of live entertainment. Mercedes and Kurt were feeling overwhelmed already with the influx of drink and food orders, and still more people were coming in. Tina and Rory were joined by Blaine, Kurt's boyfriend, who offered to assist in waiting tables. Brittany was showing up later on to help too, Rory having invited her to come as a way to get her mind off of the tragedy of her family's deaths.

"I would be happy to assist in any way I can," Sam offered Tina as she ducked behind the counter to pull out more ketchup.

"No way! You're a guest, you're supposed to enjoy yourself!" she replied. "Now go on, go mingle and as soon as we can afford a break, I'll let Rory take a short breather." She motioned her hands in a 'go away' gesture before scooting past him with her condiment bottle.

Tina may have suggested he go mingle, but that was the last thing Sam was comfortable with. All of the people he knew were behind the counters or weaving through the crowd taking orders, and of those people only his boyfriend and the young Asian woman treated him with any semblance of decency.

"I see you put in an appearance," came the smooth, condescending voice of Sebastian Smythe as he seemingly appeared out of nowhere behind the blonde vampire. He placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and smiled. "I heard this was the place to be tonight. I couldn't help but see what all the fuss was about."

Sam shrugged off Sebastian's hand as he rolled his eyes. "More like you just wanted to come watch Rory running around, portraying the role of servant," he said coldly. He started to walk away when the ever-familiar tone of his least favorite sheriff's progeny piped up.

"Don't be so bitter, Samuel. We came for the entertainment, just like you," Santana cooed with her sarcastic flavor. "We can't help it if the working boy is an added bonus." The corner of her mouth turned up in an almost hateful grin, her eyebrow rising as if to challenge him.

"Some day Santana…" the blonde trailed off, glaring at her. "Just wait. Someone is gonna knock that smirk and attitude right out of you, and I want to be there to watch." He grinned back at her arrogantly.

Santana rolled her eyes. "I think I'll go find a human to swoon over me. After all, once the music begins, I'll need a dance partner." She gave Sam one last look of disapproval before sauntering off in the direction of several jocks.

"Not dancing with your little temptress?" Sam asked snidely.

"I don't dance, Samuel. Not to 'pop' music. Slow dancing is more my style," Sebastian replied matter-of-factly. "I'd be happy to share one with you later," he added slyly. Despite their rocky 'friendship', Sebastian still found Sam attractive and was more than willing to take any available opportunity to get close to his body.

"No thanks," Sam said flatly. Sam wasn't sure if the offer was genuine or merely the sheriff being snarky, but either way he had no desire to so much as touch him, let alone dance with him. Sam intended to dance only with one person, and that was Rory.

The two men stood in silence as Mike dimmed the lights and took center stage. He held a microphone in his hand and wore a wide smile on his face. "Welcome, everyone, to the first live performance at the Lima Bean!" he announced. The crowed cheered loudly, Mike having to wave his hands to quiet them back down.

Rachel sauntered on stage next to him, wearing a form-fitting, knee-length dress that accentuated every curve of her body. She was slim, and her chest was nothing impressive, but she had a certain aura about her that drew the attention of everyone in the room. Her long brown hair hung down in ringlets, her face adorned with classy makeup. When she smiled, her pearly white teeth glistened in the light.

"I would like to introduce the talented young woman who not only will be performing, but also inspired this entire event! If it hadn't been for her, this entire evening wouldn't be taking place," Mike declared, motioning toward Rachel. "Without further ado, I present Miss Rachel Berry!"

The captive audience cheered, despite having no previous knowledge of who Rachel Berry even was, nor what she planned to sing. She took the microphone from her host and scanned the room with her eyes. "I'm so excited to be here tonight!" she exclaimed. "I hope everyone enjoys what I've prepared for you all," she added.

The music began to play as the woman looked out to the curious audience with bright eyes, drawing in every bit of their attention.

-ooo-

As Tina promised, the moment they slowed down enough, she gave Rory his break time. The teen took off his waiter's apron and trotted up to his boyfriend, a goofy grin across his face.

"How do ye' like the music? Isn't she great?" he asked, sliding his fingers between Sam's.

"She's very talented," the vampire replied. "Care to dance?"

"I'm not very good…" the boy admitted with a blush. Sam's mouth turned up in a faint smile as he took Rory's hands and placed one on his waist and the other over his shoulder. Sam did the same on opposite sides so that they were holding each other.

"It's a slow song, so you don't have to do a whole lot except sway back and forth. It's really just about relaxing and gazing into each other's eyes," the blonde explained.

Without hesitation, Rory stared right into Sam's emerald eyes, locked in their shine. Fellow teens and young adults around them were dancing as well, with various combinations of men and women. There was no differentiation between gay and straight as friends danced with friends, straight men danced with straight men, lesbians danced with gay men, it was simply a time to enjoy the beautiful singing that flowed from Rachel Berry's lungs. It was unusual for Lima to be so liberal in this manner, but Rachel's voice could be having some sort of effect on the humans.

"Sam?"

"Yes?" They were still staring into each other's eyes, but Rory broke the gaze, his eyes wandering around behind Sam, and to the sides.

"Look. E'eryone's stopped moving," the teen replied. They too stopped dancing and began to observe the scene. Not only had everyone stopped dancing, but they had stopped moving altogether. They were like statues; locked in whatever position they had been in when their bodies halted in place.

Mercedes, Kurt, and Blaine were amongst the immobilized crowd. Rory stepped up to Blaine, who had a tray in his hand. He pressed a fingertip against the other man's cheek, feeling warmth. He was still alive, but it was as if he was frozen in time.

"What's going on?" Tina's softer voice demanded as she looked around the room. "Everyone just  _stopped_."

Mike pushed in the register tray and stepped out into the lobby. "No, not everyone. Look, Tina. Sam and Rory, Sebastian and Santana. They're not stuck. They're moving like normal."

"Hey, anyone got any clue what's happening?" Sam called out. "They're all alive, but it's like they were just… paralyzed."

Sebastian sauntered up to his comrades, Santana close behind. "This doesn't look good. I gather it's a spell of some kind, but it appears to only work on humans. Observe—the only ones not affected are of the supernatural variety. Vampires, shifters, leprechauns." He nodded his head toward Mike and Tina, as well as toward Sam and Rory.

"Did you notice the singing stopped too?" Santana pointed out. "The thing is, I don't see her, that Rachel woman. It's like she just disappeared right with her voice."

All of the other moving people immediately turned their attention to the empty stage. Indeed, Rachel Berry was nowhere to be seen.

A shrill noise that was so loud that several glasses behind the bar shattered all at once resonated within the building. The six movers all fell to their knees, holding their ears to block out the sound. It rang like a scream.

When the painful noise stopped, and they were all able to focus again, they were greeted by a new host. It was Rachel Berry, except she looked  _different_. Her hair was much longer and wilder, her skin paler, somewhat jaundiced. Her veins were faintly visible beneath her skin, her eyes surrounded by dark circles, giving them a sunken in appearance. Her lips were tinted black, her fingernails the same color. Her clothes had been replaced with a translucent black dress, revealing beneath it her shapely yet ghostly body.

"It seems my spell hasn't worked on quite everyone," Rachel observed, annoyed. "That can only mean one thing."

"What?!" Sam cried out, standing back up.

"That you are some other mythological being. A vampire perhaps? Werewolf? Or even… yes… my… leprechaun," she cooed, resting her gaze on the kneeling teenager at Sam's side. "Yes, just what I've been searching for. I knew you were here. I could sense you. The rest of you are cold, or smell like beasts."

Rachel stepped down from the stage and walked elegantly across the room until she reached the stunned Rory. He stood up, the woman surveying him with an approving look. He felt her cold fingertips drag across his face the way an affectionate mother would caress her child. He shuddered at her touch and she continued to coo in a strange language.

"Yes, just what I need. A leprechaun. One of the very last of your kind, you know."

"What do ye' want with me?" Rory demanded nervously, his eyes roaming over the creepy woman. "I've done nothing to ye'!"

"Your blood. Every last drop," Rachel whispered in his ear as she leaned up next to him. Without a second thought, Rory channeled his anger at the woman into a very bright blast of golden light. It shot her backward, toward the stage. She crashed into the speakers and the curtain fell on top of her.

Taking advantage of the creature's temporary distraction, Sam grabbed Rory's hand and yanked him toward the door. "Come on! All of you!" Sam ordered as he threw the glass open and charged outside.

"We'll use my vehicle. It's larger and will fit all of us," Sebastian offered. On cue, the locks on the vehicle all clicked, releasing entry. Sebastian and Santana took the front seats, Rory and Sam the middle, and Tina and Mike the back. Without waiting for anyone to fasten their seat belts, Sebastian shifted into reverse, then into gear, driving away at a much faster speed limit than was legally posted.

"Wait! What about Kurt and Mercedes and Blaine!? We can't just leave them!" Rory screamed. "And the other people! She might hurt them! And Brittany! She's on her way now!"

"Simmer him down, Samuel. We can't save them all now. If she gets hold of the boy, who knows what might happen. The way she practically wet herself over him, his blood must be powerful," Sebastian said matter-of-factly. "Besides, she may follow us, leaving the rest of the humans in no danger."

"Ye'r a right bastard!" Rory hissed. Sebastian merely smirked in response.

Sam placed his hand on his boyfriend's clenched fist, drawing his attention away from the sheriff. "I think he's right. I think everyone will be okay. It's you she's after, not them. I promise, as soon as you're safe we'll check on them all. For now, send Brittany a text and tell her not to go anywhere near the Lima Bean."

Rory nodded, accepting Sam's encouragement. He whipped out his phone, quickly typing out a warning to Brittany.

"What  _was_  that thing?" Tina asked, her voice shaky. "It was ghastly!"

"Banshee," Rory whispered. "She must 'ave been the banshee, and she's after  _me_."

"After you? Why?" she asked, even more confused. "What did you do?"

Sam grumbled under his breath. "He didn't do anything. He's part leprechaun, and the banshee wants him because of that. She wants his abilities." He gripped the handle of the door so hard that it cracked in his hand. "She wants to kill him for what he is. She wants to steal his life or energy or something! We don't really know!"

Rory reached over and this time placed  _his_  hand on  _Sam's_  pure-white-knuckled hand and managed to pry it from the handle and lock their fingers together. "Calm down, Sam. I need ye' t'be clear headed."

"He's right. We all need to keep calm, clear heads. Panicking won't help anything at all," Sebastian piped up. He sat in the driver's seat, Santana next to him, her arms folded across her chest as she stared out of the window at the passing scenery, bored and irritated.

"Is there any sign that someone is following us?" Mike asked, looking out of his own window. He cracked it open, trying to listen for telltale sounds of someone in pursuit, but the roar of the wind rushing by was too loud.

"No, I don't think we're being followed," Sebastian replied. "I suggest we go somewhere safe. Either Sam's home, or Scandals," he added evenly.

Rory looked over at Sam nervously. "Let's go t'Sam's. I'd feel more comfortable there," he said. "Is that okay?" he asked, still looking right at his boyfriend.

The blonde vampire nodded, not speaking. At the moment, the only thing keeping him under control was the feeling of his boyfriend's hand in his, the warmth coming from Rory's soft, human flesh. Sam could sense the boy's increased heart rate from heightened nerves and fear.

"I have to make sure everyone is safe, Sebastian," Mike finally spoke up. "These people aren't just hapless victims. They're friends, classmates, co-workers! These are innocent people. We can't leave them to die!"

"I said we're seeking safety for ourselves. Those humans can't help us and we can't help them," the sheriff announced coldly.

Mike lost his composure, finally giving Sebastian a piece of his mind. "Look, you selfish fuck! These people are important to me, to all of us, so you're going to take us back there to protect as many people as we can, you got it?!" he shouted angrily. Tina reached up and put her hand on his arm.

"Calm down, Mike. Let's at least get Rory to safety, then we can go back and help everyone else," the woman said. "Please, cool off."

Mike gritted his teeth and recomposed himself in his seat. Tina was the only person in the world who could appeal to his better senses and she was surely abusing that ability right at the moment.

"Sebastian, please, take us back when we've dropped off Rory and Sam. You don't have to stay, just take us back," Tina begged. The sheriff huffed an agreement, eliciting more eye-rolling from his progeny.

The group rode in silence the rest of the way to Sam's home, too scared, too tired, or too uncertain of what to say. The tension was thick enough to slice with a blade. When Sebastian finally pulled into Sam's driveway, everyone got out of the car, the breeze sending chills over their skin despite the warm weather of the Ohio summer.

Stepping inside, Santana looked around disapprovingly. "So this is where the great Samuel Evans sleeps, showers, and brushes his fangs," she said thickly, her eyes wandering. "Unimpressive."

Sam was too frustrated at the moment to retort, but that didn't mean Rory was going to let her comment go without defense.

"Anyone e'er tell ye' just how rude ye' are?" the teen announced. "Sam invites ye' in here for safety and all ye' can do is insult his home. I happen to like it here, and so does he, and if ye' don't like it, then get out and go back to Scandals and rot."

Tina couldn't help but stifle a chuckle at her young friend's assertiveness. It had been long enough since he had ingested the vampire blood that it was no longer still affecting him—this came from his own anger. She watched with intense interest as she waited for the vampiress to respond. To her disappointment, Santana merely scoffed and rolled her eyes for the millionth time that night.

"Drinks in the kitchen. Food, too. I'll be in the study. I need to think," Sam said flatly, walking toward his office. His young boyfriend followed behind him, pulling the door closed after them. He then walked up behind Sam as he sat at his desk, his human hands massaging the vampire's tense shoulders.

"Sebastian and Santana are goin' with Mike and Tina to check out the situation at the café'. Nobody was answering phones, but I think… I think e'eryone is okay. They'll be back shortly," the teen informed the century-old vampire. "Are ye sure we're safe here?" he then asked timidly.

"For now, yes. I don't know for how long, though," came the broken reply. "I have to protect you. I can't let her hurt you."

Rory dropped his arms across Sam's chest, leaning down so their faces touched. He turned his head and gently pressed his lips against his boyfriend's. When he pulled back, he saw the slight pools of bloody tears forming around the man's eyes.

Embarrassed, Sam turned away, standing up out of Rory's embrace and hiding his face. The teen gave chase and insisted Sam stay still. When he faced him, he saw that indeed the vampire had streaks of blood across his cheeks. He reached forward and wiped the man's eyes, leaving slight red smudges.

"Don't cry, Sam. E'erything will be okay. I trust ye' and I've been practicing with me powers. That banshee won't 'ave an easy time of it. I just need ye' t'be strong. I need ye' t'be strong because…" Rory wrapped his arms around Sam and hugged him tight, mumbling into the vampire's shoulder. He sniffled and unburied his face. "I need ye' t'be strong because I'm scared."

Sam steeled himself, forcing his bloody tears to hold back. Rory was scared, terrified. Sam had to remember that his boyfriend was only sixteen. While he himself had a hundred and fifty-three years on him, Rory was still so young and innocent. He hadn't seen much of the world and suddenly things were toppling end-over-end right in his lap.

"Don't be scared. We'll protect you. And you'll protect yourself. I'm one-seventy. Sebastian's over a thousand, and Santana is enough of a bitch to keep a banshee at bay on her own regardless of her age. We've all got plenty of experience fighting off the enemy. Even your two shifters can hold their own, I'm certain. Then there's you..." Sam paused, pushing the boy back just enough to stare into his eyes, his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Then there's you, a powerful leprechaun-human hybrid. You said you've been practicing, and we're gonna keep practicing. We're going to see just how powerful you are."

Rory's bright blue eyes watered. "Why is this happening? I ne'er did anything t'anyone! E'er! I just want to be happy with me vampire boyfriend and someday be one too," he blurted out.

"Wait, what did you say?" the vampire stopped him, his gaze turning rock hard. "Did you say…?"

"That I want t'be a vampire. Yes. How else will we be t'gether? I'll age and ye' won't. Ye'll 'ave to watch me age and die. I don't-I can't handle that thought!"

"No. We need to discuss this later. Too much going on right now. Let's get through this and then we'll talk about long term," Sam stated firmly. Rory opened his mouth to argue, but Sam stopped him with a finger over his lips. "I said no. Not now. " Rory sighed and let it go. Maybe he was being irrational. He hadn't truly given it the thought that it deserved. He was basically asking Sam to kill him and bring him back, an act that not only required great trust, but also patience and self control. What Rory didn't know was that a newborn vampire would wake with an insatiable hunger, a desire to kill, to destroy. It was up to the vampire to control him or herself and force their humanity to come out. They were almost uncontrollable except by their maker, and even then… Sam would have to explain all of this to him before he could truly entertain the idea.

They stayed in silence for the next two hours, Sam locked in thought as he scoured the internet for more information on banshees. Rory sat in Sam's lap, reading over the information as well.

"Sorry to interrupt," came the smooth voice of Sebastian Smythe. Both boys looked over to see that the older man had entered the study uninvited, his arms crossed over his chest and an eyebrow raised as he appraised the scene before him.

"What is it?" Sam asked, forcing himself to maintain a semblance of control. His hatred for Sebastian only increased the more he was around.

"The humans are safe. The banshee was nowhere to be seen, and her spell had worn off. Most of the humans went home, and the ones you call your friends were closing up shop before heading home themselves. They seem to have no memory of being immobilized or that anything was ever wrong at all," the sheriff replied. "And also, I simply wanted to offer a suggestion. Rory should sleep with you," Sebastian added, his lips turning up in a sly grin on one side.

Sam rolled his eyes. "That's none of your business if we've slept together or if we are-"

The sheriff held up his hand. "I don't mean fuck. I mean, sleep together, in your basement. Obviously your coffin won't accommodate a human, so I recommend we move a bed down there. I assume the room is light tight, with locks on the doors so there shouldn't be a problem."

The blonde paused and thought a moment. The idea was definitely enticing. Sleeping next to his boyfriend, waking up beside him, holding him all night.

"Don't give me that dumb look," Sebastian stated sarcastically. "The idea is for him to be safe in his sleep. You'll be right by his side, so should anything happen, you're right there."

"Why do ye' e'en care? Ye' hate Sam, and ye' only seem to want something from me, so what's with all this? Are ye' up to something?" Rory asked accusingly.

The sheriff scoffed. "I'm not up to anything. I do like you, however, and I don't care to see you harmed. If that means working with Sam, then so be it. Whatever it takes for your safety." He reached out and caressed the human's face. The Irishman jerked his head back, reeling at the touch.

"I 'ave to agree the idea does sound logical," Rory stated. "If we could move something down there for me to sleep on, I would feel safer with Sam by me side."

"It's decided then," Sebastian declared. "We'll move a bed into the basement where you can rest safely, behind locked doors, and with Sam at your side." The man didn't wait for a response but turned to leave. "By the way, I'd be careful just how much of your blood you let him take right now. You're gonna need all the energy you have, no time for stupid acts in the whim of sexual ecstasy," he added, not bothering to look back.

"He's a real jerk," Rory muttered, his face turning into a look of distaste. "It's none o' his business what we do t'gether."

Sam didn't say anything but instead took the boy into his arms and held him there, Rory's head on his shoulder, Sam's hand stroking his hair. "Don't pay him any mind. He's simply jealous because he can't have you." Sam paused a moment as a thought came across his mind. "By the way, no matter what,  _do not_  drink any of his blood. Ever. Or any other vampire's for that matter."

"Why not?" the teen asked without pulling away. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing as his body felt more and more at ease in the strong arms of his much older lover.

"Because if you drink from a vampire, it forms a link between you. At least it does on normal humans. It may not work on you. I don't care to test it though, do you?"

"No. Not at all. The idea o' being linked to Sebastian in any way is disgusting. The chance o' it working is enough t'ward me off," the teen replied. He exaggerated a shudder to show his disapproval of the idea. "I can't imagine anyone wanting t'be with him without being under some sort o' trance anyway."

Sam chuckled, his face softening. "Apparently Santana enjoys him. Vampires can't glamour each other and she lets him ravage her any chance they get."

Rory turned up his nose in disgust. "She must be the only one then." He exaggerated another shudder before returning to Sam's arms. Both of them laughed lightly at the display. It felt good to laugh. It felt good to forget about the banshee for just a minute. So much had come down on them in the past few hours alone that they needed a break. "What do ye' mean by link anyway?"

"It's hard to explain but it's like a… connection. For example, I can always sense if you're in danger, hurt, ill. I can sense your emotions. It can also include making you very sexually attracted to the vampire you drink from."

"Oh, I'd be sexually attracted to ye' without ye'r blood. I definitely don't wanna think about Sebastian that way though. It'd be like dream rape or something," Rory said, making another exaggerated shudder.

"Knock knock, children," Santana announced sarcastically as she threw open the door. Both men looked over at her unwelcome entry. "They want to get his bedding taken care of," she said, nodding toward the teen and rolling her eyes. "Apparently the shifters want some rest or something too."

"I have extra rooms they may stay in," Sam stated firmly. "As for you and Sebastian, I have no extra arrangements for either of you, so either bury yourselves under the house, or go home for the day."

Santana hissed at him. "You should really watch your mouth, boy! Sebastian insists we help you, which means I have to as well, so the least you can do is pretend to be appreciative before I vomit blood all over your dusty house!" She turned on her heel and marched out of the room angrily. They could hear her yelling loudly at Sebastian about the rude vampire youth and his progeny wannabe. Her voice rose even shriller as she screamed swears in anger. Sebastian had just told her about his intent to stay over day.

"I'm not sure who's worse. Him or her," Rory said with a laugh. "At least he doesn't scream and yell."

The corner of Sam's mouth turned up in a grin. "Good point. I guess I should get to working on housing arrangements. We need to set up sleeping quarters for you downstairs with me. Tina and Mike can settle in the spare room, and as for the vampires…"

"Are ye' really going to make them bury themselves in the ground?" Rory asked skeptically.

Sam laughed. "I should. But no. I don't know if you noticed but the basement has a second section to it. There's a door, so we can still have our privacy. I have a couple of old 'vampire beds' they can use. They'll just have to sleep low class for the day."

"Vampire beds? Coffins. Ye' can say it. Coffin. I know how it works now," the younger teen declared confidently. "We 'ave a banshee trying to kill us. I think I can handle the word 'coffin'."

"Okay, okay. Point taken. Now come on, let's get this stuff sorted so you can get some rest. You need to be in top shape if you have a run in with that banshee," the blonde said, heading toward the still-open door.

-ooo-

The small group decided it would be best if at least one of them 'stood guard' until the next night. Mike offered to take first watch, while the others were given a chance to rest. He tucked Tina into the spare bed, kissing her goodnight before shutting the door and returning to the living room downstairs. Santana sat in the library, browsing Sam's collection of books, rolling her eyes at some of the titles and showing mild interest in others. Sebastian sat next to Mike on the couch, neither man so much as acknowledging the other's existence.

Down in the basement, Rory was getting ready for bed. He was tired but not exhausted. His brain felt more fried than anything else. Sam sat on the edge of the bed, watching as his young boyfriend disrobed, leaving only his boxer shorts on. Sam smiled at the sight, admiring the teen's lithe body and firm rear.

Rory climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to his neck. Sam got off the bedside and hovered over him, smiling. "Such a handsome young man. I'm very lucky." The teen blushed at Sam's words. He would never get used to such complimentary speak, particularly from someone who had probably encountered many attractive people in his deathtime.

Sam leaned down to kiss him, but when their lips touched, he felt Rory's hands reach up and pull him down all the way, chest to chest. Sam crawled on top of him, lying atop the comforter with his mouth latched onto the Irish teen's lips. His hands ran up and down the blanket, feeling the growing firmness beneath them.

"Is this really the time?" the vampire asked hesitantly when he broke the kiss.

"I can't think o' any better time. It's the number one stress reliever ye' know," the teen replied with a shameless grin.

The corner of Sam's mouth turned up in a smile. "I can't deny those beautiful blue eyes any desire in the least." He shucked off his clothing in vampire speed, and then crawled under the comforter with his boyfriend, yanking the teen's drawers down and tossing them aside so that their nude bodies were pressed against each other, the pair of them kissing passionately.

Rory's breathing sped up as he struggled to keep up with his boyfriend. Sam's enhanced speed allowed him to touch the teen in so many more ways, his hands running up and down Rory's body, massaging, tweaking, rubbing, playfully scratching the pale flesh. Light moans escaped the teen's lips at the sensations all over his body from one place to the next and back.

Sam stared down into the teen's eyes, green meeting blue and locking in place. He needn't ask the burning question inside him; Rory wanted him, wanted Sam inside of him, filling him with his manhood. Taking the cue from the wide, lustful eyes, Sam bit his own wrist, then slid his hand down, glazing his erection with his blood. He pushed Rory's legs up to his chest, using his slick finger to ready the teen for Sam's admission.

Within minutes, the boy was anxious and practically begging for Sam to mount him. Never one to disappoint, Sam coated himself one more time before placing himself at the tight entrance of his boyfriend. With a firm push, he entered him.

The pain was intense as Rory allowed himself to be breached. It subsided almost instantly, however, an effect of the bloody lubricant. Sam bent down to kiss him as he carefully thrust his hips. Rory's hands clawed at Sam's back while Sam's hand was busy giving attention to Rory's groin.

Sam wasn't quite as gentle as he had been before—this was sex born of urgency. He was still cautious enough not to hurt his boyfriend, but he took advantage of his healing blood and thrust into him harder much sooner than before.

The pair were locked in a rhythm of desire that didn't know time. Neither man knew just how long they were intertwined in passion, but as Rory finally became closer, he made his request.

"Bite me, Sam," Rory breathed quietly into the man's ear. "Take me all the way," he said. Sam hesitated a moment, unsure if he should go through with it. They had done it once already, but he knew Rory needed to be in his best form. The teen assured him it was alright as he pulled Sam's head down toward his shoulder, lining up his neck with the vampire's mouth.

As Sam thrust deeper and faster into the young man, his free hand stroking the teen, the other holding himself in place, he sank his fangs deep into the boy's neck. Rory cried out in temporary pain, his body lighting on fire for just a moment before he felt the erotic helplessness of being taken.

The blonde grunted roughly as he went over the edge, filling up the eager young man. He continued to stroke, coming up from his position of head on shoulder and looking down at the boy. He bit his wrist and pressed it up against Rory's mouth.

"Drink. Drink, and fall apart. It'll be like nothing you've ever felt before," Sam whispered. Rory brought his hands to Sam's wrist, holding it still while he pressed his lips against the wound and began to suck. The taste was just as he remembered it from the night Sam had saved him, and as the blood entered his body, it sent tingles throughout his veins. He felt himself crash down, his orgasm stronger than anything he had ever experienced in his life. He sucked harder and harder still as his body felt paralyzed with pleasure.

When Rory finished his wave, Sam pulled back his wrist. He pressed a finger against Rory's blood-slicked lips, then pressed it against the wounds on the boy's neck. They closed up and healed instantly. Sam then leaned down and kissed him as he collapsed on top of the boy.

"That. Was. The most amazin' thing I e'er felt," Rory announced. "It was like me whole body was alive with, with…"

"With intense, overpowering pleasure," Sam finished for him. "I'm glad I could give that to you." He rolled onto his side and cuddled with the sated boy. "You should get some sleep now. I'll stay here, with you until dawn. I'll have to go to my coffin to rest then." He looked at the forlorn face across from him. "I'm sorry I can't let you wake up next to me, but I'll be here as long as possible."

"I love ye', Sam," the now-sleepy teenager said softly as he allowed his boyfriend to wrap his arms around him in a protective manner.

"I love you, too," the vampire declared, kissing him on the lips before pulling him even closer.

Sebastian descended the rest of the way down the stairs to the basement. In their fervor, neither Sam nor Rory had heard him come in. Undetected, the sheriff had paused halfway down the staircase and couched low so that he could watch as the two boys made love. Even in the near darkness he had been able to see the occasional glint of bright blue eyes—innocent eyes. His erection strained in his pants, begging for attention. He would have to tend to that need later, when Santana came down to join him.

"You have the most beautiful human in your possession, Samuel," Sebastian whispered. Rory had quickly fallen asleep, fortunately unable to hear the much older man declare his presence.

Sam's eyes turned cold as he shifted his head to look at the elder. "How dare you," he hissed quietly, not wanting to wake his partner. "That was a private moment. You had no right to spy on us," he added angrily.

Sebastian grinned mischievously. "I can't help it if I wanted to come down to my quarters and you were in the middle of something. Once I saw him, I had no choice but to observe. It's enough to make my mouth water," he teased.

Sam sucked in a deep breath, his eyes cutting into the older man like daggers. "Don't you  _ever_  'observe' us like that again," he said firmly. "It's one thing to have no respect for  _my_  privacy, but you  _will_  give him every ounce of respect and decency."

Sebastian threw his head back and laughed. "You're giving  _me_  demands? That's rich, Samuel. You're lucky I'm in an amused mood right now. You have balls, I must say. I'll leave your human to his privacy, but I'll say it again. You have the most beautiful creature in your possession."

"He's not a creature; his name is Rory, and I don't  _own_  him," Sam said stiffly. "We belong to each other. He is mine and I am his. Now go away before you wake him up."

Sebastian grinned. "As you wish, Samuel." He dropped his face to one of complacency as he strutted toward the door partitioning the basement. Once he was in the room, he summoned his progeny telepathically through their blood bond. He needed release after witnessing one of the most arousing scenes he had seen in a long time.

-ooo-

Rory had no idea what time it was when he finally awoke. The basement was relatively light tight, which was all the more reason why he didn't understand exactly why Sam  _had_  to sleep in the coffin.

The coffin. He had yet to actually see Sam sleeping inside of it. The idea was chilling, but at the same time intriguing.  _What's he look like in there? Is he still breathing; there's no air holes… Does he close his eyes? Is he actually sleeping, or just laying there, still?_

These questions roved through his mind one after the other. He wanted to walk up to the case, lift the lid and find out the answers for himself, but he had no idea if something would actually  _happen_  to Sam if he did.  _What if he gets angry with me?_

"You're curious, aren't you?" came a quiet voice seemingly out of nowhere. Rory spun around to see the source of the noise: Mike. Rory didn't say anything, he just shifted his eyes from Mike to the coffin and back. "Of course you are. I don't blame you." He stepped forward and stood next to his friend, staring down at the fiberglass casing. "I didn't mean to barge in, by the way. I had orders."

Rory gave him a bewildered look. "Orders? From who?"

The Asian man smiled, putting the boy at ease. "Sam. Before he turned in for the dawn, he came up to see me. We had a decent conversation, actually." He leaned his head back slightly, recalling the exchange. "He asked that when you woke up, that I take you out back, to train."

"To train?" the teen asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. He wants you to keep testing your abilities. To control them," Mike said.  _He's afraid you might need to fight. He's scared he can't keep you as safe as he needs to,_ Mike added in his head. There was no way he would voice that to his young friend. It would shake his confidence, and right now he needed it.

Again, Rory didn't speak, just stared down at the coffin. "Do ye' think he's comfortable in there?" he asked, finally looking up at Mike, a worried look on his face.

"Yeah. He's slept like this for over a hundred and fifty years. Trust me, he's cozy."

"Are ye'… are ye' friends now?" Rory asked nervously. He was afraid of what Mike might come back with.

The older boy put his hand on Rory's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "I don't know if Sam and I will ever be 'friends' the way you might want us to be. But we  _are_  allies. We have the same goal; we'll work together. But something you have to understand is that shifters and vampires don't have the best history together. Wolves, either. It's the way it is I suppose."

"I guess that's better than nothing," the teen said sullenly. "I just wish e'eryone could be friends and get along."

"That's in a perfect world. We don't live there. Right now we simply tolerate each other's existences." Mike watched the boy as he ran his fingertips along the coffin edge. "You're dying to look. It won't hurt him."

Rory looked back up at him with a shocked stare. "I… I don't wanna chance it."

"He'll be fine, I promise. Just lift the lid and take a peek. I'll go back upstairs so you can do it in private even. I want you upstairs in ten minutes though. You gotta get going so we can get started on training," Mike instructed. He smiled, nodded toward the lid, and walked up the stairs.

Rory stared down at the coffin once more. It looked so solid. He really wanted to see, but he didn't want to upset Sam either. He continued to trace his fingers along the edge until he found himself very gently lifting the lid. He opened it about halfway, looking down at his boyfriend in a peaceful slumber.

Sam still looked to be breathing, albeit a lot slower than before. Involuntary habits Sam had said. The man's eyes were closed, his hands clasped on his belly. He looked peaceful. If Rory hadn't known better, he would have thought he was at a wake, observing a corpse prepared for burial. He wanted to reach down and touch him, just to know he was still 'alive'. His hand hovered right over Sam's face, wanting desperately to just stroke his cheek, to brush his fingertips against Sam's thick lips, but fear of waking the man froze his hand in place.

Finally, Rory stepped back and cautiously closed the lid. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, slightly disturbed at what he had just seen. It was one thing to know his boyfriend slept in a coffin during the day, but to actually  _see_  him in the coffin, asleep, looking like an exhumed body… it was entirely different. Regretting his spying, he trudged up the stairs and into the main part of the house. It was only Mike and Tina awake, the pair in the kitchen eating cereal.

"You need to eat something before we start. Keep your energy up. Sam told me to put you through the ringer," Mike advised.

"The ringer?" the Irishman replied, confused over yet another American slang phrase.

"Yeah. He means put you through a rigorous training session. A workout," Tina answered. "He wants to make you strong, and we don't have a lot of time. There's no going easy about it," she added.

"So, you need to eat something before we start," Mike repeated, nodding toward the box of Frosted Flakes on the table. Rory shrugged and retrieved a bowl from the cabinet and a spoon from the drawer, filled the dish up with cereal, and then added milk from the fridge. He hadn't realized how famished he was until he started to eat. Two bowls of Frosted Flakes with milk later, he was ready.

After breakfast, Rory changed into jeans and a t-shirt and met the two shifters in the backyard. Mike had already spray-painted targets on several trees at varying heights.

"Okay, first things first. If you think you might pass out, let us know. We have no idea what extensive use of your abilities will do to you," Mike announced from across the yard. "Second, the colors mean something."

Tina began to point to the different targets. "Red means use the weakest burst you can manage. Try to hit the targets and we'll see what the effect is after." Rory nodded at her, waiting for further instructions. "Yellow means using a stronger blast, but not your strongest. Green means 'go'. That means use the strongest blast you can muster up. We need to see how good your aim is at the varied energy levels."

"That doesn't sound too hard," Rory said with more confidence than he felt. So far he had just focused on trying to get the energy to come forth; he hadn't meddled with aim or intensity. If it worked like it did before, all he had to do was concentrate. This time, he would concentrate on how much power to draw up and exactly where he wanted it to go.

"You ready?" Mike asked. Rory nodded, bringing his hands up in front of himself. He extended his arms and splayed his fingers as he had done before and picked one of the targets. It was red. He took a deep breath and began to concentrate. He imagined his hands heating up as they had before, imagined them starting to glow. Within seconds, his hands really began to warm and gain a yellow-gold aura. He thought about the target, the round dot in the middle. He felt his body react to his visions, his hands going from pale to bright yellow, the heat intensifying, and then feeling a burst of energy leave his fingertips.

The sensation felt strange, as always. It could only be described as feeling like his fingers were leaking. It didn't last long, however, as the sound of splintering wood filled his ears. When the effects stopped, he looked up at the target, bringing his hands down.

There was a dark black burn mark about a foot under the target, several pieces of bark and wood having splintered out from the impact. "Shit," he said under his breath.

"Good try. It was your first attempt. You can't expect to get it right the first time," Tina encouraged, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Try again, for the same one. Just focus a little higher, and see if you can dial down the strength." She tried to think of a way to help him relate his power to something else. "Think of it like throwing a baseball. You don't always want to throw it across the whole field, so you don't put as much force into the throw."

"Ye' know I'm Irish. We don't throw baseballs," the teen replied with a chuckle. Tina blushed at her error, but Rory simply smiled and turned back toward the bruised tree. As before, he held up his hands, concentrated, and this time thought about the dot itself, and only the dot – not the outer rings, not the bark nor the wood – just on the painted circle. He then reflected back to Tina's analogy.  _Not as much force. Not as much force. Just a little bit. Come on, just a little,_ he told himself. His hands quivered slightly, the glow not as bright as before. He felt the leaking sensation again, and when it stopped, the dot was gone, replaced with a scorch mark. The bark was still there. He'd managed to hit the target  _and_  not blow it up all the way.

"Much better. Ready to up the ante a little bit?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

By lunchtime, half of the trees in the backyard had burn marks on them, the other half actually missing bark and chunks of wood. Only two had actually fallen down. Tina was insistent that they not kill any more trees than necessary; come wintertime, the few trees that were downed could be cut into firewood. Sam himself didn't need to worry about temperature, but if Rory intended to spend time there in the cooler months, the fireplace would warm up the home much better than any heating unit.

After lunch there was more practice. This time, the shifters decided to make things a little more mobile. Using a skeet shooter, clay pigeons were launched into the air by Mike. Rory aimed for them, missing the entire first round of five. And the second round. Frustrated, he began to send out a rising shower of sparks into the air, finally hitting a clay disc.

"I think maybe we've had enough for today," Tina suggested, noticing that the teen was not only sweating profusely, but also visibly tired. His eyes were getting droopy, his movements slowing down compared to the more agile dashes of earlier. Suddenly, to her dismay, he started to wobble and tip over. She reached the boy just in time to catch him from falling flat on his face.

"Yeah, that's definitely enough," the woman stated. She knelt down on the ground, taking the tired young man with her. Mike jogged up to join them, crouching down next to them to inspect their charge.

"I think it's catching up with you," the man said, giving Rory a good once over. "I'll help you get cleaned up. You're sweaty and dirty. Sam will pitch a fit if you're in disarray when he wakes up." Mike had meant it to be funny, but it sounded sarcastic.

Tina smiled at him as she helped him to his feet. "You did great today," she said. "I'll get the gun and the leftover discs and fix something to eat. You'll have a hot meal on the table when you come back down."

-ooo-

Rory's energy exercises had taken a bigger toll on his body than he had thought. When they had paused for lunch, he had felt a little weak, but didn't bother to say anything. He now wished he had because the second set had proven to be too much.

Mike pulled the teen's arm around his shoulder, steadying him. They stumbled into the house and up the stairs, a very slow process since each step seemed to require more energy than the one before it.

"Sit down," Mike instructed, pointing to the closed toilet lid. Rory did so, his eyes heavy and his head light. He waited while his friend started the bathwater in the bathroom. Within a few minutes, the tub was full of hot water. "I hope you aren't shy," the man added with a chuckle.

Rory shrugged, allowing Mike to assist him in removing his clothing. Normally he would have been less than thrilled being seen nude by anyone but a doctor or his boyfriend, but having seen Mike in his nakedness already, and being far too worn out to argue, he allowed himself to be undressed and helped into the tub.

The hot water felt good on his tired muscles. He leaned back, resting his head against the edge. He closed his eyes, falling asleep.

Mike scratched his head, contemplating what to do next. He didn't want the boy to feel violated, but he needed a wash, and he was obviously too tired to do it on his own. Sighing, he finally made a command decision.

-ooo-

The Irish teen woke up in the basement on the bed, Sam's coffin next to him, the lid open. He was dressed in a fresh pair of boxer shorts, the comforter pulled up to his neck. If Sam's coffin was open, then he was awake and about.

Rory sat up, stretched, and then got out of bed. Whoever had brought him to the basement had forgotten one little thing—his clothes. He was unconcerned with Mike or Sam seeing him in only his underwear, but he didn't like the idea that Sebastian could see him in so little and undress him with his eyes. He also didn't feel like hearing Santana's inevitable snarky comments about his average body that lacked definition and surely didn't match up to her maker's toned form. The idea that Tina would see him was also not something he was thrilled with, though more out of shyness than fear of judgment.

In an attempt to keep his dignity, he pulled the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around himself, trudging up the stairs and into the house proper. He could hear the television in the living room, but when he peered around the doorframe, he saw only Santana and Sebastian, two people he didn't feel like talking to.

Assuming Sam would be in his study, he shuffled down the hall, across the foyer, and took note of the cracked, open door, light peeking out. He rapped on the door with his knuckle, not wanting to simply barge in.

"Come in," Sam said politely. Upon noticing that his young boyfriend had entered the room, Sam stood up, his eyes suddenly brightening. "Rory!" he exclaimed calmly, walking up to him and taking him in his arms. "I'm glad to see you're up. How do you feel?"

"Tired. I got some rest, but I still feel like I ran a marathon," the teen replied.

"I heard how well you did. You need work on moving targets, but your control is getting better. You've come  _really_  far,  _really_  fast," Sam said with an air of pride. "You're adapting to your newfound skills a lot better than I did when I first became vampire."

Sam let go of him, stepping back and taking the teen's hands in his own. "I'd be lying, however, if I said I wasn't worried about what this is doing to your body. I fear it might be doing more to you than we can see."

"Ye' mean the tiredness?"

"Yes. The weakness. Passing out. Those aren't good signs at all," the vampire noted. "I wonder if pressing you to train is the best idea. I might be making you damage yourself even more." His eyes darkened with worry, his mouth shifted into a grim frown. "I'd feel a lot better if we knew more about your abilities. Maybe you shouldn't train anymore. Maybe that was enough."

Rory gave him a half-smile and a sigh. "I 'ave to do what I 'ave to do, Sam. We 'ave no choice."

"I've been trying to research, but I'm getting nothing we don't already know. Rory, I want to protect you. I want to keep you safe, so I can have you for as long as possible. Until…" he trailed off, refusing to voice the knowledge that someday he would indeed have to watch his boyfriend die of old age. He knew that even though leprechaun powers apparently included draining life to sustain their own, but he also knew that Rory would never take someone's life willingly.

"That's why ye' should turn me before I get too old," the teen declared. "Ye' make me into a vampire, just like ye', and we can be together fore'er," he added. Sam looked horrified at the suggestion.

"No. I can't do that. I can't just steal your life from you. You don't… you don't know what you're saying. It's not as simple as just a bite and calling it a day. There's more to it, and you have to give up so much, and… No, you're not being turned."

"But—"

"You will not be turned, end of discussion," Sam said harshly. "You will live out your human life by my side, as you should." He turned away, feeling his eyes begin to water with blood.

Rory huffed loudly. "In case ye' hadn't noticed, I'm  _not_  human. I'm half leprechaun, and it's me own choice, not ye'rs!"

Sam spun around angrily, grabbing Rory's arms. "Dammit, we aren't discussing this anymore! You stay what you are, and don't think you can go off getting turned by someone else, like Sebastian, because then you're bonded to him until he releases you, which I know for a fact he wouldn't do! You'd be his slave, his toy! You don't know what you're talking about."

The teen pulled back, trying to loose Sam's grip but to no avail. "Ye'r hurting me! Let go!" he shouted.

Embarrassed, Sam let go and turned away, heading toward his desk. He cursed himself for touching him that way, for losing his temper. It wasn't like him, but Rory was so stubborn, insisting on taking this subject further, knowing he didn't understand everything involved with what he was asking. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to act like that. You just don't know all of the details, and now isn't a good time to think about it. I lost my temper. Even vampires can be irrational sometimes."

"Ye' say I don't know what I'm talking about, then tell me. Explain it to me, Sam. Help me understand."

"You would be giving up so much more than you know. There's… there's so much more involved than just a simply action, it's so much more emotional and… just no. Please drop it," Sam begged, his voice laced with sadness.

"We'll talk about this again later," Rory said quietly while he rubbed his upper arms. Sam hadn't bruised him, but he felt an ache where the man's hands had been squeezing. He was far more upset about Sam's refusal to discuss the subject than he was the iron grip. "I'm going to watch TV with the others." Not waiting for a response, he walked out the door, pushing it shut behind him.

Sam watched the door shut, his vision suddenly tinted deep red as the tears welled up in his eyes. He shut his eyes, trying to stop the flow, but it did no good. He plopped down into the nearest chair, leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and held his head in his hands. "Fuck," he swore at himself.

-ooo-

"Lover's quarrel?" Sebastian cooed as the leprechaun entered the living room. Sebastian had a cocky grin on his face, feeling like he had made a victory.

"Shut up, Sebastian," Rory snarled. Since first meeting the sheriff, the teen had gotten over feeling intimidated by the older man. He had power over Sebastian whether the vampire knew it or not. As long as Sebastian gave in to his emotions and desires, Rory would always have the upper hand. It was a tiny fact he took comfort in.

He sat down in the armchair, picking up the remote for the TV and began flipping channels. He wasn't even paying attention to the screen; all he could think about was what had just transpired in the study.  _Maybe I'm being unreasonable. No, no I'm not. For us to be together, I'll have to change. If I don't, he has to watch me get old and die. After that he'll be alone again_ _. I don't want that. He just doesn't see it from me side._

Lost in thought, he didn't even realize Sebastian had snatched the remote from his hand and was changing the channel back to what he was watching before. "I can't take much more of this. The odd couple, Ozzie and Harriet, bickering like children. Stuck in this dull house with boring company."

"I don't see why we have to stay here. That screeching bitch isn't after us. I want to go home and get out of this hellhole, Sebastian. It's trying my patience," Santana grumbled, cutting her eyes toward Rory. "All this drama is giving me a headache."

"If ye'r so miserable here, then get out. Go. All ye' do is complain," Rory blurted out. His first inclination was to apologize, but the woman didn't deserve an apology. She needed to know about herself. "Go on. Out. Go home!"

Santana's lips turned up into a sarcastic smile. "And he comes out swinging! Little leper got some bite in him," she teased. She then turned her attention to her maker. "Come on, can't we get out of here? Fuck knows what's going on at the bar without us."

"That's a valid point," Sebastian agreed. He stood up, looking down at Rory. "We'd love to thank you for your hospitality," he began with a sneer. "But she's right, we really must go. It's been a pleasure, I'm sure." He gave Rory a once over, obviously imagining the teen without the sheet wrapped around him. In a blur, the two vampires were suddenly gone, leaving the disgruntled teenager sitting alone in the living room, an episode of  _Matlock_  playing on the screen of the television.

Frustrated, he stomped back into Sam's study, shutting the door gently behind him. Sam didn't bother to look up from his desk, pretending to be writing on a notepad.

"Sam, I'm sorry," Rory stated. "Now isn't the time for this. We need to focus on  _now_ , this screaming demon trying to kill us."

Sam finally looked up, his cheeks stained red where he had been crying and had wiped away the tears. "Agreed," he said simply.

"Please don't be mad. I don't want to fight," the teen said. "Can't we make up?"

The vampire continued to stare at him, their eyes meeting. He stood up, walking toward the boy while never taking his eyes away. He knelt down in front of him, taking Rory's hands in his. "I just don't want you to go through what I did. It was tragic, and I don't want to see you throw away your human life," he said. "We'll look at our options later. Right now, let's get through this. Then I promise we can work on this conversation. Fair?"

Rory smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Fair," he said. He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on the thick lips of his boyfriend.

"Do you forgive me? For my overreaction? I'm disgusted with myself for touching you that way."

"It's alright, Sam. It's forgotten." The anger and awkwardness was over, replaced by understanding and tranquility.

-ooo-

When the teen and the vampire emerged from the study, Sam noticed that both Sebastian and Santana were gone. Rory hadn't mentioned their departure, but he was relieved to see they were no longer around. Sebastian put him on edge and Santana was just generally unpleasant.

Still worn out from his earlier exertion, Rory ate a sandwich Tina made for him, and then retired to the couch. Sam sat with him, the boy's head in his lap as the elder teen ran his fingers through his boyfriend's dark hair. A late night movie was on—a comedy—something to distract the younger teen from their predicament. He had spent all day training until he had worn himself out. He deserved some relaxation. Some actual relaxation, something fun, and right then, a comedy on TV was going to have to suffice.

As Sam ran his fingers through Rory's hair with one hand and rested the other on his chest, he couldn't help but think about the fact that this boy was so young, only sixteen, and being forced to deal with so much so fast. He had become used to his memory reading abilities, learned to adjust to them, but now he was expanding his powers and learning to use them offensively and defensively, to keep himself safe. Safe from a mythological demon who wanted to suck the life out of him just because he has leprechaun in his bloodline. The banshee had already killed several students and an innocent pair of adults, adults who were important to Rory. Ideally, the teen should be hanging out with his friends, going to the movies, sitting around playing video games, throwing parties, learning to drive, working his part-time job; this boy didn't deserve all this drama and death thrown at him. Sam began to wonder if coming into Rory's life had been a wise move.  _Would all of this have been avoided if I never set foot in the Lima Bean and started this relationship? Would he have been better off?_

As if Rory had heard him, he reached up and grabbed Sam's hand on his chest, interlocking their fingers. He shifted and pulled their hands down across his belly, snuggling up in his boyfriend's arms more securely.  _No, he wouldn't have been better off. The banshee would have come even if I hadn't been here. The difference is that because I'm here, he has a chance at survival. If it hadn't been for introducing him to Sebastian, he wouldn't have been able to discover his other powers. If I wasn't here, he'd be as good as fodder for that screeching bitch. Yeah, it's good I came to him._

Sam craned his neck around to peer into the open door of his study. Mike and Tina were busy researching how to actually kill a banshee. There were myths galore, but finding ones that agreed upon a method was difficult. It seemed each story had its own mythology about the banshee. One claimed her own scream could kill her, another claimed the vocal cords needed to be removed. One said the only way to kill her was to hack off her head, and yet another suggested placing her into a vacuum so that she had no air, and thus no ability to scream or even breathe. That one seemed the most hokey and unlikely. Hacking off her head sounded like a great idea, since that was a surefire way to kill the majority of the creatures on the planet.

It was around two in the morning when Tina and Mike retired to bed for the night. They were researched out and needed some rest for the next day. Assuming Rory was feeling up to it, they were going to be working on some more exercises, namely defensive maneuvers. Sam couldn't help but wonder who was going to be manning the Lima Bean, but that was honestly none of his concern.

Rory fell asleep in Sam's lap, and was later carried down to the basement and gently laid in the bed. Sam lay with him until dawn, sneaking back into his coffin just as the sun rose. When he moved, the young teen shifted as if he were going to wake. Relieved that he hadn't actually woken him up, Sam pulled the lid shut and closed his eyes.

-ooo-

By the time Mike and Tina left for their shifts around mid-afternoon, Rory was soaking in the bathtub, the water extra hot to ease his aching muscles. He had bruises everywhere, having been assaulted by tennis balls, softballs, and even a Frisbee. The pair of shifters were hoping to get him to form some sort of shield, but the closest he got was a wide arc of light that sent a ball hurling right through one of the upstairs windows. It was all very amateur, but none of them exactly had any past experience with this sort of thing and it was all trial and error. Mostly error, as his purple spots could attest.

The good news about the day's workout was that Rory was noticeably less tired than the day before. They hadn't done quite as much, but even still, he had a lot more energy than before. It wasn't until he settled into the steaming hot water that sleep threatened him.

The teen stayed soaking in the tub for over an hour, the water turning lukewarm and giving him slight chills. He finished washing up, got out, and dried himself. He felt better and had almost a renewed sense of energy. He threw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, tied his sneakers on extra tight, and left the house to go for a run.

Before he had left, Mike had given the teen strict instructions not to leave the house. At the very least, he could always take cover in the basement, and Sam could be of help to him as long as the sunlight was kept out. If he left the house, however, he was on his own with no protection. Unfortunately, he was beginning to feel stir crazy already having been stuck in the house and backyard for two days straight and he needed to get rid of some of the excess energy as well.

Rory intended to jog down the driveway until he got to the main road, then run at least a mile before turning back and returning to the house. He wasn't a marathon runner, nor a big exercise buff, so he didn't want to overdo it. He also suffered from shin splints and had no desire to aggravate them from too much running. He latched his iPod to his hip, put in his earphones, and started to jog.

Rory couldn't help but notice as he hit the main road that something seemed a little…off. He took out his earphones and listened to the silence of nature. It occurred to him, however, that when someone was outdoors, there should still be sound. The sound of wind rustling through the branches, birds singing, and bugs chirping. There was none of that; it was silent.

The lack of noise was unsettling. It was foreboding even. Something so out of the ordinary had to be linked to the banshee in some form. It was time to go home, back to Sam, where he was safe.

Just as Rory reached the front porch, he heard an eerie cry in the air. It was shrill and sounded pained and angry. Shivering, even in the heat, the teen bolted inside, locking the door behind him and breathing heavily. He checked his watch. It wasn't quite time for Sam to wake up yet. He decided in the meantime to watch the TV to not only break the silence invading from the outside, but to distract himself until Sam rose for the night. The entire time he sat in front of the television, he could hear the faint squeal of the banshee way off in distance. Every cry sent chills down his spine, but at the same time a pulsing heat to his hands.

-ooo-

By the time Sam woke up, Rory had the volume on the surround sound up to a very high level. It hurt his ears, the noise like someone beating drums right next to his head. He covered his ears with his hands as he walked upstairs, finding the teenager sitting on the couch, staring at the screen.

"Turn it down!" Sam shouted over the slam of the Hulk crashing into a building as he fought with some alien creature. Rory didn't hear him at first, so Sam dashed in front of him, hands still over his ears and shouting. Finally getting the hint, the teen turned the volume down to a moderate level.

"Sorry Sam," Rory apologized, slightly embarrassed. "I didn't know it would hurt ye'r ears like that."

Sam took the remote from him and muted the volume all the way, massaging his temples to ward away a headache. "What's with the home theater? It sounded like a war was going on in here."

"I wanted t'drown it out," the boy replied sheepishly. Sam looked at him, confused. "The banshee. I wanted t'drown it out. I kept hearing her screaming, o'er and o'er again. It kept giving me chills and making me hands warm up. I was afraid I might…"

"Blow up?" the vampire finished for him. The boy nodded, a blush coloring his cheeks.

"Pretty stupid I guess," Rory muttered.

Sam gave him a comforting smile and lifted the teen's chin with his fingertips. "Don't worry about it. I get that you're scared, and you were by yourself. Even  _I_  get chills from that demon, and I'm already cold."

Rory couldn't help but laugh at his boyfriend's attempt at comfort. The idea of Sam getting chills was hilarious, since as he pointed out, his body was already cooler than a normal person's, but it was just a reminder that although Sam was a vampire, he still had a sense of fear. It was oddly comforting, knowing that those traces of humanity were still so prevalent in the undead man.

"I wonder how Mike and Tina are doing at work," Rory said. "I wonder if they're okay, if that banshee came back. I'd feel horrible if something happened to them because o' me. Nobody is responding to me text messages or calls. I'm worried."

Sam knew what the pleading look in the teen's eyes meant. Rory wanted him to check on their friends, to make sure they were safe at work. To make sure the banshee was nowhere around. "Stop, please," he begged as the ocean eyes tore at his heartstrings. "I'll go check on them, but stay here. Don't leave for  _any_  reason. I'm sure they're fine. Probably just busy and haven't had time to respond."

"Okay, I promise. I just need t'know they aren't in danger. I 'ave some sort of bad feeling," Rory said, his voice laced with worry. Sam smiled at him, kissed him, and then stepped out of the door, running at top vampire speed. He had no desire to leave Rory unattended any longer than he had to.

 


	9. Season 1, Episode 9: You Got Me in a Trance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Author's Notes: Only a couple more chapters to go. Things are about to heat up and go full speed ahead from here on out! Hang on to your hats my friends!_  
>  ****  
> Beta Credit: TVTime

**Season 1, Episode 9: You Got Me in a Trance**

Sam slowed down as he approached the Lima Bean. He wanted to 'scope out' the place before going in. It sounded overly paranoid even to himself, but if the banshee was indeed inside, he would be able to help much easier if nobody knew he was there. The element of surprise was always an asset. On the other hand, if the banshee was outside, nobody knew he was there except Rory. If she overpowered him, that would be the end. Either way he wanted to make this a reasonably short recon mission.

Sam was careful to stay hidden in the trees as he approached the café. From his distant vantage point he was just able to peer through the windows and see that Tina was happily waiting tables, while Kurt was bringing pastries out from the kitchen to put in the display case. Mercedes wiped down the bar, the only occupant being the strange man who had abruptly left during Sam's more recent visit. Sam recalled that the man, Noah Puckerman as he learned his name was, had the distinct scent of werewolf. It was a foul odor to him, like a dog that had rolled around in dirt all day. It was a smell that no human could pick up, and only certain non-humans could detect, vampires being one of them.

The vampire was about to worry where Mike was when he saw the Asian man emerge from the hall where his office was located. He brought something out to Tina. The pair of them began musing over it, her expression changing from chipper to serious. Sam wondered if Mike had found out something new about the banshee, or if it was even related to their current predicament.

Satisfied that their friends were safe, Sam wanted to get back to Rory as soon as possible. He watched a moment more, and then turned around, taking off in a run.

As he entered the woods surrounding his home, the one hundred-seventy-year-old slammed into something firm and stumbled backward, barely catching himself from falling. He took a moment to regain his senses and then look over the strange object that had abruptly stopped his dash, his eyes widening in surprise.  _Who the hell is she and why does she feel like a wall?_  he asked himself.

The 'thing' he had slammed into was actually a person, a woman. She was a head shorter than him, even with the heels she appeared to be wearing. She wore a very revealing latex outfit, all in black. Her boots stopped just below her knees, the legs of her suit barely covering her thighs. Her stomach was exposed but her ample bosom was fully covered except for her cleavage, the material holding her chest firmly in place. She wore fingerless gloves that stopped halfway up her forearms, altogether giving her a very dangerous, intimidating look. Despite the fact that he hadn't checked out a female in quite a while, Sam had to admit her body was flawless.

As his gaze returned to the woman's face he realized that she was the most beautiful female he had ever seen. Her makeup was modest, accenting her eyes and mouth, just the slightest bit of color in her cheeks. Her blonde hair was streaked with dark pink and deep red and was pulled back in a tight ponytail, her luscious red lips parted in a mocking smile. She gazed at the man before her, her eyes showing signs of arousal and curiosity, the pupils glowing a strange teal color.

"Hello, vampire," she said, her voice dripping with sex. As she spoke, he felt himself beginning to feel turned on, a sensation he didn't understand at the moment. Before he could ask who she was, why she was there, and how she knew  _what_  he was, he felt a punch to his stomach. He doubled over just in time to feel his forehead slamming into something while something else was pushing down on his upper body. As he stumbled and fell back onto his rear he was able to see the woman blurring back into focus.

"What the hell? Who  _are_  you? What do you want?" he demanded as he slowly got back on his feet, never taking his eyes off of her.  _She hits like a train! Any higher and she would have broken a rib! Something tells me this isn't going to go well,_  he thought, a sense of dread falling over him.

"Does it matter? I am a succubus, and that's all you need to know, because I will kill you, and any information learned will simply be useless to your grotesque remains," she replied haughtily.

Sam found her confidence disturbing. She had already given him a few hearty blows that could have completely incapacitated a human, giving him no doubt she was more than capable of making good on her promise.

Before the vampire could argue or ask anymore questions, he felt absurdly icy hands on his body, yanking him forward and around into a tree headfirst. He had no time to recover before the frosty grip was around his throat, shoving his face into the ground and dragging him as she ran, rock digging into his flesh. He could taste dirt and gravel in his mouth as he spat on the ground, blood coming out with it. For the first time in decades he felt a wave of fear surge through his body.

"I was hoping you'd put up more of a fight you know," the woman taunted, releasing her grip on his head. She stood back, arms crossed, watching him struggle to get up. He was on one knee before she kicked his leg, then slammed her fist into the back of his head, forcing him down to the ground once again. "Is that the best you can do, vampire?"

"No," Sam groaned as he forced himself to get up, his entire body aching, sticky blood running down the side of his face. The latex-clad woman went to knock him down again, but he dodged and managed to kick her feet out from under her, knocking her onto her back. She squealed in delight as he straddled her, holding down her arms by her biceps.  _Goddamn, her arms feel like steel!_

"Mmm, I like a man who can take control," she purred. "Come on, make Kitty smile for you," she added, licking her lips. Her eyes glowed brighter and her skin emanated some sort of scent that reminded Sam of strawberries and gave him a renewed sense of arousal. He was in a fight, getting his ass kicked and finally gaining an advantage and he was feeling a tingle in his pants. What was wrong with him?

"Fuck you, lady!" Sam yelled back at her angrily, his grip feeling weaker. "Let's get something straight! I-"

An instant later the vampire was up against a tree, Kitty's frozen hand around his throat, holding him up despite her lack of height. "Yes, let's get something straight, vampire. I  _will_  kill you. I  _will_  take your leprechaun, and lucky for him, he's needed alive, otherwise I would play with him myself."

A surge of rage ran through Sam's body as Kitty made her threat. He kicked out, managing to throw her off balance just enough to let go of him. He dropped to the ground gasping. He hadn't the time to curse his body's habit of pulling in air he no longer needed, as it took energy he couldn't spare at that moment.  _I refuse to die! Not when Rory's in danger! I have to kill her first!_

Kitty quickly got back to her feet, jamming her knee into Sam's crotch before punching him under the chin, the force knocking him into the air. She grabbed him by the foot as he rose above her head and then began to spin him around, his head and back slamming into the trees around them, cracking the trunks with each hit. He howled in pain as he felt himself colliding with the solid wood over and over, his body weakening significantly.

The next thing he felt was his body flying through the air. Not the way he had been in Kitty's grasp—her hand was no longer on his ankle. He was flying freely, finally falling onto his side on the ground. He then heard what he prayed he wouldn't hear.

"Leave him alone, ye' bitch!" bellowed the deep, Irish-accented voice of Rory Flanagan. Sam could barely see a bright flash of light and then heard a scream from Kitty. He saw a second and a third flash, heard more screams and angry shouts from his boyfriend in both English and what he assumed was Gaelic.

Sam struggled to get up on all fours, a new wave of anger building up in him. "What are you doing!? Get out of here, now!" he ordered, his eyes cutting toward Rory. "Get the hell out of here!"  _What is he thinking?! All this shit we're going through to protect him and he's gonna come out here on his own and start blasting crazy people! Damn you! Get out of here_ now _!_ Many more incoherent thoughts raced through his head, most of them sheer frustration at just about everything going on at the moment, and a good bit of it nothing but pure fear.

"I can't leave ye' here," Rory said, kneeling down on one knee in front of Sam. "I know I shouldn't 'ave come but I—"

He was interrupted by a frosted hand grabbing him by the back of his shirt and yanking him off of his feet. He flew backward and hit a tree, falling forward onto his hands and knees. Kitty stood in front of Sam, gloating and then kicking him in the face with her heel.

"You two really think you can take me down with your little fireworks show? Really?" Kitty tittered, shaking her head. "Please. I'm a succubus. The mistress would never allow someone weak to kill for her." She shrugged and smiled, licking her lips again. "I really wish I could hurt this little brat. Those blasts stung like a bitch." Her eyes returned to their aqua glow, the scent of strawberries filling the air once more. Rory, however, felt nothing at all, unlike Sam who was once again feeling a tingle in his groin.

Rory was crawling on the ground, his vision slightly blurry, his head light from where he had slammed it against the trunk. He tried to focus but couldn't even feel his hands warming up. He could still hear, but it sounded hollow, like he was in a tunnel.  _Oh me God! I'm going to die! And she's gonna kill Sam! Because of me! He's gonna die and it's my fault!_  he thought.

"Then again, she said don't kill him. She didn't say I couldn't smack him around a bit," the woman said, marching over toward the injured boy. She bent down to grab him by the head, but she was suddenly thrown sideways, and then upward into the branches, slammed back down to the ground, and kicked several times in the chest. She had no time to react as a blur, no, two blurs buzzed around her, kicking and punching various parts of her body. When the action stopped, Kitty was face down on the ground.

"What the fuck?!" she screeched, picking herself up off of the ground. Her eyes shifted to a bright red from rage. "Who's there?! You have some fucking balls to hit me!"

Her answer was in the form of the two blurs moving upon her again. She felt herself being hit in the back, forcing her to stumble forward. Something caught her arm and slung her around right into a tree, the mighty oak splitting right down the center with the impact. She had no time to recover as she was tossed into the air, meeting a cold grip and being thrown into the ground, something heavy landing on top of her.

" _Had enough yet?"_ a voice asked in French.  _"Ready to surrender, or should I kill you now?"_

" _I don't surrender!"_ she barked, her French a little rusty. A smirk crossed the face of the man who had spoken to her as he dashed forward, lifting her off of the ground and charging her headfirst into another large tree. The resulting crack echoed like thunder, the trunk splintering into hundreds of shards.

Kitty screamed, more from anger than pain. At this point she was outnumbered despite the fact that two of her adversaries were all but incapacitated. She screamed one more time as a blast of white-hot light smacked her in the side.

The succubus quickly rose from the ground, not wanting to chance another surprise attack. She backed up against a tree as she surveyed the scene. The vampire was flat on his face, bloodied and broken. He was struggling to getup and failing miserably. The leprechaun was still on his butt, leaning against a tree for support. He looked to be very weak and dizzy, his outstretched hand wavering. She didn't recognize the other two figures in front of her, but she could sense they were vampires.

"This isn't over cocksuckers!" Kitty bellowed. She turned tail and fled at top speed, her screeches of rage filling the night air as she returned to wherever she had come from.

Sam looked up to see what had subdued their attacker, his eyes hazy and his chest aching as his body struggled to catch breaths he didn't need. The sight of his saviors only verified for him who had come to their rescue. The properly spoken French had been enough of a clue, and now he saw the sheriff and his progeny standing in the middle of the forest and it made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Sebastian. Santana," Sam said flatly. Sebastian stood before him, smirking, his tie and blazer still neatly pressed as if he hadn't just been fighting. Santana stood next to him, a look of annoyance on her face. Her skintight leather pants squeaked slightly as she shifted her weight from one hip to the other.

"Good evening, Samuel. Having a little trouble?" Sebastian snickered. He held out his hand to help the younger man onto his feet. Sam reluctantly took the offered hand but still struggled as he rose, every part of his body in pain. He was able to stand, but was leaning over slightly, one hand on his abdomen and the other on his hip, supporting him. "Aren't you going to thank me?"

The younger vampire sighed, and muttered his gratitude. Inside, he really was grateful, but he wished that it had been anyone but Sebastian to come to his rescue. If there was one thing he didn't want, it was for the sheriff to see him weak or to feel as if he owed him something in return.

"Santana, take care of Mr. Evans. He looks a little disheveled," the sheriff ordered as he turned away, walking toward the dizzied teenaged human-leprechaun hybrid. Santana rolled her eyes but obliged, moving closer and lifting the bottom of Sam's shirt to inspect him. He shoved her hand away, glaring.

"You really are an ungrateful brat, Sam," Santana scolded coldly. "Quit being a drama queen and let me…. Oh this pains me to even say… let me  _help_  you."

Sebastian knelt down in front of Rory, a look of genuine sadness on his face. He held out both hands for the teen to take. "Come on, let's stand up now," the man said with an unusually caring tone. Rory grasped the sheriff's hands and slowly stood up, his head spinning, his vision and hearing still slightly off from the impact on his head. Sebastian caressed the boy's cheek with the back of his hand, smiling ever so slightly. "Still a beautiful boy. Are you alright?"

Rory felt sick and wanted to vomit. It wasn't from Sebastian, however. It was from the way his head felt. He turned away, bent over, and threw up beside the tree he had hit, embarrassed.

"Here, drink some of my blood. It'll help heal you," Sebastian offered, slitting his wrist open and holding it out for him as the boy turned back around.

Rory looked up at him with big eyes. "No, I can't. Sam told me what happens if I drink from someone else," he said softly.

Sebastian smiled the grin of a cunning cat. "Well, you need some medical attention, and right now, he can't exactly provide it. He needs his strength. You'll need to drink from me to heal faster."

The teen closed his eyes and sighed. He then gently pushed the sheriff's arm away. "I'm sorry. I appreciate what ye'r offering, but I can't. I'll heal on me own." Sam let out a sigh of relief as he overheard their conversation. Sebastian could be manipulative, but fortunately Rory was still on top of his game.

"Stubborn, but the offer is on the table if you change your mind," Sebastian stated, slightly hurt. The wound on his wrist healed up in a matter of seconds. He lifted his forearm to his mouth, licked it clean, and pulled the cuff of his blazer back down proper. He then turned back around to address his progeny. "We need to get to safety. To Sam's home. Santana, you assist him, and I'll take care of our human friend." He nodded at Sam, who was greatly annoyed at being coddled.

"Come on," Santana huffed, pulling Sam's arm around her shoulders. "Let's get this over with. It's humiliating having to carry you around like a dead trout," the woman grumbled. Normally Sam would have shoved her off, declined her assistance, but truth be told, he needed the help right then. He also knew that Santana had no choice but to follow her maker's orders and by denying her he would have been causing more of a problem between maker and progeny than was necessary.

Sebastian on the other hand gently pulled Rory into his arms and with a shift of weight, picked him up to carry him like a child. It was then that the boy lost consciousness.

"He's passed out. When we get to your house we can put him to bed. Rest will cure him, in time," Sebastian stated, glancing back at Sam. Sam wanted to run up to his boyfriend and take him into his own arms, away from Sebastian. Sam was far too weak, however and watched helplessly as the older man carried the boy in his arms.

Santana was annoyed, but she was also incredibly observant. It hadn't gone unnoticed how gentle and caring her maker had been with the human. Sebastian was never like that with anyone, not even her. It gave her pangs of jealously seeing him cater to the boy.

As Sebastian strolled through the woods, his young charge in his arms, he couldn't help but nuzzle his chin against the teen's head. He smelled so good despite having just been thrown into a tree. His eyes focused on Rory's mouth, the boy's lips crying for attention. If only he could take just one kiss from him, but Sam would risk the true death to keep his human from being defiled.

-ooo-

Sebastian gently laid Rory down on the bed in the basement. He carefully slid off the boy's shoes, socks, and pants, and then his shirt, leaving only his boxer shorts on. Rory was so deeply conked out that he didn't even wake as the shirt was pulled over his head. The sheriff looked at the beautiful boy, laying on the bed, vulnerable. Even wounded the teen was enticing. Sebastian cursed Sam for having forbade the teen to drink from him.

The sheriff walked away and returned a moment later with a washcloth and a basin of warm water. Kneeling at Rory's side, he carefully wiped the dirt and blood from the teen's face, smoothing the disheveled hair back from his forehead and caressing his cheeks. Sebastian hadn't felt the sort of emotions he was feeling for Rory in a long, long time. He found him delicious looking, but he also found him genuinely intriguing and not just because of his unique abilities. Rory was kind but assertive. He was innocent and pure. Sebastian felt a sort of protectiveness over him and even affection. Rory wasn't like the other men and women he pursued. They were all toys for him to play with and get his rocks off. This boy was someone he felt like he was growing to care about.

The idea that he might be developing romantic feelings for a human made him feel ill. It wasn't the boy himself, it was the knowledge that someday the teen would grow old and die, ninety years max, and that was just a blink of an eye in a vampire's lifetime. The pain that came with love and affection could be very damaging, and part of the reason Sebastian had lived so long was because he had total control over his emotions. He was logical and smart, manipulative and cunning. Even still, Santana had conned him into turning her. He couldn't allow this human to also break him of his control.

Despite these distracting thoughts, Sebastian finished his task, stood up to leave, and paused. He leaned down and gently placed his lips on the unconscious boy's. He didn't move to do anything except press their lips together for a moment.  _I just want to feel them against mine, just for a moment,_ he thought. He broke the kiss after a few seconds and then scurried back upstairs. He had Sam to take care of next, a task he knew his progeny had no desire to assist in.

-ooo-

"Your boyfriend is safely in bed, wounds catered to," came the taunting voice of Sam's least favorite person. "He'll need time to heal, which could be solved if you let him drink from me since you're too weak right now."

"Get out of my bathroom, Sebastian," Sam groaned as the sheriff entered without knocking. Sam was lying back in the bathtub, the water steaming hot and tinted slightly red. Every part of his body ached. He was covered in bruises and cuts. His teeth hurt from having his head slammed around face first and his groin was still tender from the brutal knee to his balls. Even a vampire would need extended time to recover from so many injuries. His healing blood could only work but so quickly.

"That's not exactly a friendly greeting for someone who just saved your life," Sebastian said coolly. "At the very least a 'thank you' would be nice."

The younger vampire sighed. "Thank you for your timely deliverance, Sebastian," he said thinly.

"It must burn you up that the person you hate so much is the one who just saved your ass from the true death," Sebastian taunted with a smile.

Sam rolled his eyes, refusing to admit that Sebastian was exactly right. It  _did_  irritate him that of all people to come to his aid, it had to be Sebastian and Santana. He barely tolerated their existence because one was his sheriff; the other was the sheriff's progeny.

"I know we don't like each other, Samuel, but you have to admit, we have a common interest here. Rory's safety and the defeat of the banshee," the sheriff pointed out. He took a seat on the edge of the tub, his eyes wandering down for a moment. "Hmm…Impressive," he said seductively, nodding toward Sam's crotch.

"Shut up," Sam hissed. Sebastian giggled, dragging his fingertips through the water near his subordinate's shin. "Just because we have to work together doesn't mean I have to like it. This is  _my_  home, so don't forget who's in charge here."

Sebastian threw his head back in a loud scoff. "Don't forget, kid, I'm the sheriff. I'm in charge whether you like it or not. Don't piss me off, or else I'll take that hybrid from you and have you bound in silver and your fangs removed for treason!" His remarks came across as joking, but in a very evil tone. It was not above him to pull rank, although he was lying about the extremes he would go to. Sebastian had no desire to silver Sam or remove his fangs. All he really wanted was Rory. Torturing other vampires was something he wanted no part in, but it surely made for a chilling threat.

"Let's call a truce for now, how does that suit you?" the elder suggested. "We work together long enough to secure the young man and send this banshee and her crew packing for hell, and then we'll go back to how things were before. I may be controlling and manipulative, but I'm as concerned for the boy's safety as you are."

Sam closed his eyes and mulled it over. He didn't have much choice. He could work with Sebastian and have things go smoothly, or he could work against him and have everything go all to hell. Truth be told, it worked to his and Rory's advantage to have a thousand-six-hundred-twenty-three-year-old vampire in their corner. The older a vampire was, the stronger he was. On top of that they had Santana, who was only ten years older than Sam himself, but she was still an asset.

"Fine. Truce. But if you so much as even try to violate Rory, I call it off, and we handle things like men," Sam declared. He held out his dripping hand. "Agreed?"

Sebastian reached forward and shook the other man's hand. "Fine. Agreed." He stood up and walked away, pausing at the doorframe. "You know Samuel, it's a shame we don't like each other. You're very handsome, and well endowed, the type of man I enjoy between my sheets."

"Fuck you," Sam barked. "Go on, leave me alone to finish my suffering in this bath," he added. He didn't wait for the other man to finish leaving before closing his eyes and once again getting comfortable against the tub. The steaming water soothed his aching muscles, and he took solace in the knowledge that Rory was all right.

Sebastian paused, addressing his ally. "Maybe someday you can explain to me why you're so hostile toward me. You have always had such animosity toward me, and I have merely reciprocated it, but I honestly have no idea why you feel such burning hatred for me."

The younger vampire sighed, not really feeling like going through the conversation, but in an act of appreciation for Sebastian's care of Rory, he decided to concede. "At first it was Santana who made me dislike you both. After time passed and I got to know you, I disliked your haughty attitude and sense of entitlement."

"Somehow I doubt that's the entire truth, Samuel. Your hate goes deeper than that. There's something much more significant, and someday I will get it out of you. Know this, however, Samuel: I do not hate you. I dislike  _your_  attitude toward  _me_ , and  _your_  sense of entitlement. You act like you deserve some sort of award for mainstreaming and I find it rather arrogant. Even through that, I don't hate you. I actually find you… intriguing," the sheriff admitted, his eyes filled with sincerity.

"Good to know. Maybe someday we can have a real conversation like men, but right now, we have one goal, and that's to protect Rory. Other than that, I have no interest in anything else. Now please, leave me alone."

Sebastian said nothing at first and took one last look at the toned body of the younger vampire, noting one more time just how well endowed he was. Before he finally left the bathroom, he gave Sam a parting word. "Jealousy does not become you, Samuel. Keep that in mind." He smirked and chuckled, then walked out of the door, leaving it wide open in an act of rudeness.

-ooo-

Sam finished his bath and dried off, feeling much cleaner but still incredibly weak. His body continued to ache, his head was pounding, and the bruises hadn't started fading yet. He cursed under his breath, angry that he had been defeated so easily. Upon reflection, however, it wasn't like Sam had done an excessive amount of fighting in his years as a vampire. In the past, most situations were easily resolved with glamour or by subduing a human physically, but not violently. He had only fought a couple of other vampires, but those incidents turned out much better than this one. Despite his limited fighting record, Sam nevertheless took pride in his physique, just as toned and strong as the day he was turned, the muscles of a hardworking man. Unfortunately, that didn't automatically make him a skilled fighter.

The light in the basement was off, leaving the room in darkness. Of course, that made little difference since his ability to see in the dark was very good. He sat on the edge of the bed, next to his resting boyfriend. He reached over and held the teen's hand, more for his own comfort than for Rory's. He smiled when he felt the boy squeeze his hand back.

"Sam…are ye' okay?" Rory asked quietly as his eyes fluttered open.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Sam apologized. "I've felt better, but I'll be fine. I just need to rest."

Rory sat up as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He could see the discoloration on Sam's skin, even though he couldn't tell that it was deep purple. He let his fingers brush the strange splotches, Sam wincing as he did so.

"Ye'r not okay. Ye'r hurt," the teen insisted. "Do ye' need to drink? Ye' can drink from me if it'll help," he offered, tilting his head sideways. "Go on, ye' need it, don't ye'?"

Sam pulled the boy into his arms instead, kissing him on the neck. "No, you need every bit of your strength. I'll be fine, it just takes a while when a vampire gets their ass handed to them in a fight like that." He chuckled lightly, hoping it would convince the teen not to worry.

"In fact…I think it might do  _you_  some good to drink from  _me_ ," Sam said, biting his wrist. "But just a little bit. I can't afford to lose but so much." A look of worry crossed Rory's features, the teen shaking his head.

"No, ye' need it! I can't be takin' ye'r bloo—" Rory's sentence was cut off as Sam shoved his now-bleeding wrist against the boy's mouth, holding Rory's head in place so he couldn't pull away.

Rory tasted the blood as it hit his tongue and began to drain down his throat. It was just as he remembered it from the first time he had drunk from his boyfriend. As the red liquid hit his stomach, he could feel the energy of it starting to take effect; a slight tingle through his veins, a warmth flowing through his body.

"That's all I can manage," Sam said after a couple of minutes. He pulled back his wrist, bringing it to his lips to lick it clean. He leaned forward and kissed the boy, tasting his own blood as he drew the boy's tongue into his mouth. They kissed passionately for several minutes, their hands wandering over one another. Both teens were erect, straining their garments, but they were far too tired to engage in sex. Instead they simply felt secure just being so close to one another.

The last thing Rory remembered was Sam lying down with him, stroking his hair. When he awoke the next morning, he wasn't surprised to discover that Sam wasn't next to him. He glanced over toward Sam's own 'bed' but the coffin was closed up tight. He felt pangs of disappointment fall over him as it sank into him yet again that they would never wake up next to one another.

-ooo-

Rory felt strangely energized after getting out of bed and trotting upstairs. He wasn't certain, but it was most likely a side effect from Sam's blood. He tried to remember what it had been like that first night, but the memory was foggy. Of course, he had been a hairsbreadth away from death at the time. They had taken each other's life force since then, but like any other experience in life, nothing compared to the memory of that first time.

Rory had no desire whatsoever to go outside for fear that the creature that had attacked Sam would be lurking out there. It claimed to be something other than a vampire, a word he wasn't familiar with.

"What was it she said….?" The teen asked aloud to an empty house. "A suck cube? Suck cube dish? No, that wasn't it. Sucker bitch?" He couldn't help but giggle at his last suggestion. The woman had indeed been a bitch. "Suck a… Suck a…."

-ooo-

"Succubus?" Mike repeated as Tina gave him the information Sebastian had left for them. Unaware of the location of either shifter's home, Sebastian had simply left a note in their mailbox at the Lima Bean. It was in an envelope and looked like any ordinary letter. Tina opened it and began to read the words neatly printed on stationery emblazoned with the sheriff's name. It was a short recount of the night's events, including the attack on Sam as well as Rory's attempt to fight. He also left for them a word to research: succubus.

"I can guarantee the jerk knows what it is, he just want's to screw with us," Tina declared, frowning at the piece of paper. It was unlike her to be so harsh, but she had witnessed the way he and Sam interacted first hand, and it left her with a sour taste in her mouth. Sebastian was arrogant, bossy, and rude.

"Maybe he isn't wanting us to research it. Maybe he just wants us to know what it is," Mike suggested. He was surprised at Tina's words, but he also understood she was most likely projecting her frustration on the most convenient victim. "Of course, I have no idea what a succubus is, do you?"

Tina nodded. "Yes. It's a demon that rapes men in the night, draining their life from them and using it to sustain her own. Somehow they also impregnate themselves so they can give birth to human-demon hybrids," she said matter-of-factly. "I thought they were just myths like everything else, but apparently at least  _one_  exists." She shuddered at the very thought that a succubus was out there, possibly a threat to her own boyfriend if the creature saw fit.

"So, we have this banshee, whose voice can somehow hypnotize people, and a succubus who has super strength and speed and also rapes men in their sleep. Great," the man replied sarcastically. He sighed, closed his eyes, and tilted his head back. "Suddenly I feel a migraine."

Tina massaged the man's shoulders for a moment before she slipped out of the office door. She had an idea. She walked toward the kitchen where Kurt was busily baking a new batch of cookies for the display case. She lightly tapped him on the shoulder, not wanting to scare him as he shuffled back and forth dancing and singing along to his iPod.

"Huh? Oh, hey," Kurt said, pulling out his earbuds and muting the iPod. "I'm almost done with these and already started the honey buns if that's what you came to ask about," he added.

The Asian woman shook her head. "No, not that. I actually have a small favor to ask you," she said, smiling her sweetest grin. Kurt just looked back at her with defeat of a battle they didn't even bother to fight. "It looks like some big baddie is giving Sam and Rory some trouble, and we want to know how to destroy it. We were hoping that maybe Blaine can help, what with his magic and all."

Kurt considered the question for several moments, leaving Tina in suspense. He busied himself with rolling the honey buns while he thought. "I don't like the idea of involving Blaine with all this….mumbo jumbo. I really don't care that the thing is bothering Sam," he stated coldly. After a moment he turned to face his friend. "However, Rory is my friend, and if this thing is messing with him, then we gotta stop it. I don't really appreciate that it hypnotized every human in here, including myself. Who knows what the crazy wench could have done to us. I almost wish you never told us anything about it at all. Ignorance is bliss, and I would prefer to reach nirvana."

"So you'll ask him if he'll help us? It helps you, too. You won't be in danger anymore either. If she stays around, next time none of us might be so lucky to live," Tina urged hopefully. Kurt rolled his eyes halfway and nodded. The gracious woman wrapped her arms around Kurt, hugging him. "You're the best, Kurt!

"Yeah, yeah," Kurt muttered, waving her off. "I'll call him as soon as I'm done rolling these buns. I'm gonna warn you though; if so much as a hair on his head is out of place, somebody loses something precious. Got me?"

Tina continued to smile, triumphant. "Yes, He'll be fine, we just need to talk to him and see what he can tell us," she emphasized. "He won't be going out to fight it or anything." She couldn't help but giggle while resisting the urge to point out that Blaine wore so much gel in his hair that any creature would find it quite the challenge to harm a single strand on the Wiccan's head.

Kurt scoffed, irritated. "I said I'd call him. But when I say he better not get involved with anything dangerous, I mean it."

Tina smiled and left the room, returning to Mike to fill him in on what Kurt's answer to her question had been.

-ooo-

"This place is really creepy," Kurt said, shuddering as he looked up at the old-style mansion of Samuel Evans. Mike had given Kurt the address after talking with him, asking for Blaine to accompany him to Sam's home.

"I think it looks kind of neat," Blaine noted, his eyes roving over the front of the house. Had there been no lights in the windows, it may have looked haunted to an unwelcome guest, but dim light shone through the curtains. "It's different. Rustic. I wonder how old it is."

"It's old enough, now let's get this over with so we can get out of here. This place gives me the creeps," Mercedes said, standing close to Kurt for comfort. She too had goosebumps up and down her arms. The young woman had agreed to come with her friends out of curiosity and concern for their safety. Kurt knocked on the door, his knuckles rapping loudly on the thick wood. A moment later, Rory answered, smiling.

"Hello! Come on in," he greeted them excitedly. "I'm so glad ye' came. It's such a nice house, and ye' can get to know Sam better," the teen exclaimed. He hugged each of his friends, including Blaine. He didn't know Blaine that well, but the man was always nice to him and very cheerful. "Sam's in his study, so just follow me."

All three visitors let their eyes wander around their surroundings as they followed their younger friend, observing the old décor and style of craftsmanship. Blaine ran his fingers along the polished wooden trim, pausing to observe the details of the foyer.

Kurt, on the other hand, seemed entirely uninterested. Instead, the teen had his hand tightly clasped with Blaine's, his nerves more than a little out of sorts.  _I'm in the lion's den! If I weren't an atheist, I would be praying about now._

Mercedes casually glanced around, impressed that a man could keep a home clean and presentable. She still wasn't entirely keen on being inside a vampire's lair, but she had to admit it did have a certain homey atmosphere.

Rory opened the study door, leading the trio behind him into the room. "Sam, our friends are here," he announced politely.

Sam looked up from his desk, sliding whatever he had been reading underneath an old leather notebook. Rory gave him a knowing wink, aware that Sam was hiding a comic book and not some private information.

"Welcome," the vampire said, standing up and leaning over his desk to shake the hand of each guest. "I appreciate you all coming."

"Yeah, no problem," Kurt said flatly. "Mike didn't give us much information on why you needed us here, so why  _are_  we here?" Sam could sense the annoyance in the young man's harsh demeanor. It was a shame Kurt insisted on being so distant with him and it made him a little sad. He wanted to be friends with Rory's friends as well, and so far it looked like Tina was the only one willing to entertain the idea.

"Yes, of course. What we really needed was Blaine," Sam replied, looking toward the black-haired man with the bowtie and vest. "Rory tells me you're a practitioner of witchcraft. A Wiccan."

Blaine nodded. "Yes. I'm pretty good with it. I've been studying since I was a kid, and been mentored by a very experienced coven. Why?"

Sam smiled softly, putting the man at ease. "I don't know if you've been told, but we have a little bit of a problem. You see, an ancient and mystical creature has decided to pay us a visit. It's called a banshee, a wailing spirit that, among other things, can kill with her voice."

"I've heard of them before, in stories. I never thought…" Blaine trailed off. He shook his head and sighed. "I guess it's logical though. If vampires exist, why not a banshee? But what do you want with me?"

Sam approached Blaine, stepping from behind the desk. He took one of the man's hands and held it between his own, gazing into his eyes. "We need your help. If you're truly as skilled as you say, we can use your abilities in magic to help us take on this creature."

"Hey, wait a minute!" Kurt piped up loudly. "Mike promised me Blaine would  _not_  be in the line of fire! He said Blaine wasn't going into any fights or anything like that!" He took Blaine's arm protectively, yanking him back away from Sam, who let Blaine's hand drop.

"Don't worry, Kurt. I don't want him in danger either. Ideally what we need is protection. We need to make this as safe of a haven as possible. We need whatever protective spells you can manage," Sam said, looking from Blaine to Kurt and back. "We also need to find out if there's anything you know that can help subdue the creature, or weaken it. A potion or other concoction if possible."

The room was silent a moment. Rory and Mercedes watched the exchange with great interest, unaware of what the decision would be. Mercedes knew Blaine almost as well as Kurt. She knew that Blaine was much more of an accepting sort of person, much quicker to believe in strange things, definitely not like Kurt who based everything on what he could see or what he had heard. His knowledge wasn't always the most informed, but Blaine on the other hand kept himself as in the loop as much as possible. She almost laughed, amused by her own train of thought as she realized how it sounded. In fact, she agreed more with Kurt's way of perceiving things than Blaine's yet here she was, considering the Wiccan man to be the better of the group.

"Kurt, calm down, please. I can take care of myself. I don't know what it is, but something makes me trust this man," Blaine said, looking Kurt in the eyes. "Look at me. Don't you see? It'll be okay."

"How do we know he didn't put that glamour spell on you to make you do what he wants?" Kurt demanded harshly. "He's a vampire, and he wants something from you. There's no reason he wouldn't do that to get what he wants." He gazed past his boyfriend and over at the vampire. Sam was simply standing there, watching and waiting patiently. It was a little unnerving that he was so quiet.

"Sam wouldn't do that," Rory stepped in. "It's against his morals. Ye' 'ave to trust me. He can't glamour me even if he wanted to, so please, Kurt, trust  _me_  even if ye' don't trust  _him_. He won't put Blaine in danger."

Kurt huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine," was all he said. Rory offered him a sincere and thankful smile. There was something about Rory that when he grinned, it put someone at ease and so few could resist his charms.

Before their conversation could pick back up, there was a loud scream that seemed to come from outside. Sam and Rory exchanged frightened glances, the sound sending chills down both of their spines.

"What the hell was that!?" Mercedes screeched. "That doesn't sound human!"

"Stay here," Sam ordered.

Ignoring his command, Rory followed Sam into the hall. His boyfriend was standing in the doorframe, his eyes locked on the young blonde woman from before—the succubus. She was dressed just as provocatively as before, her bodysuit just barely covering her breasts and groin. In fact there was most likely more material used in her boots than the rest of her outfit combined. It looked to be made of the same black latex as her previous uniform. She had a wicked grin on her face as she looked at Sam.

"Hi there," Kitty said in a childlike tone, waving her hand tauntingly.

Sam glared at her coldly. "Leave. You have no right to be here," he declared confidently. Unfortunately, unlike vampires, a succubus did not need an invitation to come inside a home. She rushed up closely to him, their faces only inches apart. She traced her finger down Sam's chest seductively.

"Looks like you recovered well. You're a poor fighter. Not much of a challenge at all," the woman cooed. She leaned forward and kissed the man on the lips, causing him to jerk back in disgust. The contact had been just enough, however, to leave him a little dizzy. He held his head in his hands, trying to make the world stop spinning.

"Get ye'r nasty mouth off o' him!" Rory bellowed, appearing in the hall. Sam stumbled back, getting ready to guard his boyfriend the best he could in his woozy state. Rory stepped in front of him however, his hands already glowing with golden light. He threw one hand in front of himself, sending a blast of energy toward Kitty. She went to dodge, avoiding that burst, but felt the hot slam of a second blast she hadn't been expecting.

Kitty grunted loudly, bending over slightly at the injury on her abdomen. It burned like fire and cold all at once. She felt slow, as if her speed was reduced to that of a normal human. She started to back up, but a much stronger burst of energy hit her square in the chest, throwing her backward into the front yard.

"Get. Out. Of. Here!" Rory yelled. He shot another blast at her between each word, hitting her in the shoulder, the knee, her head, and her chest again. She screamed with each hit, feeling her body ache and burn.

"Stop it!" she cried out. "You can't do this to me you little shit!"

"Oh yes I can!" Rory geared up for another barrage of attacks, but he paused, another light forming between himself and Kitty. Something that looked like a row of glitter fell from the sky, landing in front of them just outside the house, a wall of light forming beneath the shimmering wave. The wall seemed to cross the entire front of the house, curving around the side and most likely around the back, surrounding the mansion.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, having finally recuperated. He stepped out onto the porch, cocking his head as he observed the sheen of light. He reached out and touched it with his fingertip. He jerked his hand back quickly. "Ouch! What the-!?"

"Don't touch it," came Blaine's calm voice. "It's a barrier, a protective shell. It'll keep her out. It stings a little from this side, but if anyone touches it from outside…"

He didn't need to explain what would have happened because a moment later Kitty approached and demonstrated for him. She punched the wall with her fist and was thrown backward, sparks flying brightly, bolts of electricity crackling where her clenched hand had hit.

"That happens," Blaine finished.

Rory's mouth fell open in awe. "How did ye' do that?" he managed to ask.

"I told you, I have very good mentors, and more skill than you might think," Blaine replied smugly. "Sorry, I'm not usually so cocky, but I haven't exactly had a chance to  _use_  any of this stuff."

The succubus screamed angrily at the top of her lungs. She grabbed a thick tree branch and threw it at the barrier. The same thing happened. It was thrown backward in a shower of sparks and electrical cracks.

"Clever, warlock. You can't keep me out forever. I'll be back, with friends," she hissed in true overly-dramatic style. She turned to leave, her body moving more slowly than usual. She was still fast enough to outrun a human, but not quite yet a blur before their eyes.

When they could no longer see her, everyone stepped back into the foyer, Sam shutting and locking the door. "Good job, Blaine. Thank you," the vampire said with a smile. "That was amazing."

"See, Kurt? That's why it's important he help us," Rory said to his friend. "He can help keep us safe. That's a pretty amazing thing he just did. We  _need_  him."

Kurt merely pursed his lips together, defeated. Blaine put his arms around him and squeezed tight, leaning his head on the other teen's shoulder. "Everything will be okay. I want to help them. They're our friends," he said. Kurt sighed and whispered something into his boyfriend's ear, something nobody else was able to hear.

When the two boys parted from each other, Sam addressed the warlock. "How long will this barrier last?"

Blaine shrugged. "I…I don't know, actually. Like I said, I never actually got to use this magic before so I'm not a hundred percent sure of anything. All I know is, as long as that barrier holds, nothing is getting in here." His gaze went from the vampire to the leprechaun, fear and apprehension in their eyes. "I'm sorry, I wish I could give you more reassurance than that."

Sam approached the teen and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "No, it's alright. Trust me, we appreciate what you've done. And what you may have to do in the future. I don't want you in danger, but we can use your magic."

Blaine nodded and smiled weakly. He felt anything but confident, despite what he appeared to be to everyone else.

"So now what?" Mercedes asked, speaking for the first time since all the action had taken place. She had followed Sam's direction and stayed put, despite the commotion outside. She had watched through the window, horrified. "If we go out there, we risk getting mauled by that…whatever she is."

"I have plenty of rooms here that you can use. If you go upstairs, you'll find them down the left hall. I don't have a lot of amenities, but I open my home to you all," the vampire replied.

Mercedes looked unsure, the idea of being locked up with a vampire not exactly settling well with her, but it appeared they had no choice. "Thanks," she offered. She walked past the group and up the stairs, pausing in the middle. "I think I'll get some rest. All this craziness is getting to me."  _And I hope when I wake up I will be at home in my soft bed, my poster of LL Cool J in his drawers smiling at me and momma with a nice breakfast on the table._

"Sleep well. If you need anything at all, let me know," Sam replied, watching as she finished her way up the stairs and turned to the left, seeking out a room.

"Do you expect us to just stay here forever? We can't just live here, you know. We have lives to get back to. Jobs. Family. Friends. What do you propose we do about that?" Kurt demanded, his glare turning cold again.

Sam looked down at the floor. The truth was, he had no answer for that. At this point they were playing everything by ear, with no real plan. His intentions tonight had been simply to recruit Blaine's assistance, but now that they had it, and now that they were under a hardcore protection spell, he had no clue what was next on the agenda. The thing was, everyone was looking to him to be the leader. He was the oldest, and it was his house, and he was surely the strongest of the group, at least physically. He was supposed to be the one with all the answers, all the plans. It was he who was supposed to lead them into some sort of supernatural battle against not one, but two mythological creatures.

"Calm down, Kurt, please," Blaine pleaded, taking his boyfriend's hand in an effort to soothe him. "We just need some time to think. I have a feeling nobody expected that crazy woman to show up here, so we have to stop and reconsider the situation."

Kurt pursed his lips in annoyance, but a gentle smile from Blaine calmed him down slightly. He said nothing, which was the best option since he had nothing to contribute but a bunch of hostile demands.

"Sam, I really don't know how long this barrier is going to hold. I don't know if it'll even hold without me here. I have to be honest. I know the spells, but I don't necessarily know all the details like that. I'm sorry," Blaine apologized again, giving the vampire a sincere look of self-doubt.

"Don't apologize. I'm thankful for what you  _do_  know. That right there saved our lives just now," Sam replied. He then looked over at his noticeably tired boyfriend. "And Rory, you were amazing as well. Between the two of you, we have a good chance of defeating this banshee and this succubus." He then addressed all three of the teenagers. "I hate to tell you, but I don't have a plan. I thought this would be a safe haven while we did some more research and found a way to end the banshee's threat. Kitty threw a wrench into that. Now I don't know what to do." He sighed and let his shoulders slack, his eyes weary and sad.

Rory approached him, wrapping himself around Sam in a loose hug. "For now, what else can we do? Ye' said we need t'research, so we research. We 'ave to do that anyway. Maybe Blaine can look into the finer details of his magic and Kurt and Mercedes can help us search for banshee information. At least until we get an idea o' what t'do next. I don't really want anyone to leave until we know it's safe…"

Kurt rolled his eyes and started toward the staircase. "Whatever. We're obviously trapped here for a while and since I don't have any 'special powers' I'm just going to bed," he said sourly, his sarcasm thick as he mentioned special powers. "Us plain Jane's need our beauty sleep!"

The warlock snagged his boyfriend's hand and pulled him close. "It's gonna be okay. It's to help Rory, and the rest of us, too. The sooner we figure this thing out, the sooner we can go back to our regular lives so keep your chin up, eh?" Not waiting for a reply, he kissed Kurt quickly on the mouth then let him traverse the stairs. The older teen said nothing, irritated at the inconvenience of it all.

Blaine turned back to his friends. "I'm sorry he's being so difficult," he apologized.

Sam smiled at him. "Don't worry about it. It's a lot to be dragged into." He nodded toward Rory. "It hasn't been easy for him, either. I think it kind of hurts his feelings a little that Kurt and Mercedes are so against our being together."

Rory didn't hear him whispering the last sentence. Instead, he was already back in the office, thumbing through Sam's comic book. He turned the pages, but the words never connected—his mind was far too preoccupied to focus on anything but the colorful imagery. His eyes glazed over as he lost himself in thought.

Sam waved his hand in front of his teenaged boyfriend, trying to get his attention. "Yoo hoo, Earth to Rory," he joked, having heard the phrase on TV before. The teen finally snapped out of his haze, shaking his head.

"Sorry, a lot on me mind," he mumbled, not looking up. Sam moved behind him and started running his fingers through the boy's hair with one hand, the other rubbing his back.

"I know. You can always talk to me, even if it's something I already know, or you've already talked about. I'll listen anyway," the blonde chuckled. "Over a hundred years of listening, I have it down pretty good. Tell me, Rory, what's on your mind, in your head right now?"

A smirk crossed the teen's face. "Ye' 'ave t'ask? E'erything. Me friends. Brittany's family. Sebastian and his little experiment. Mike and Tina and their shape shifting. Blaine and his magic. And of course the banshee and that suck-you-bus." He sounded out the last word very carefully, still unsure of it. "This  _is_  a lot to take in all at once. I mean it wasn't long ago I was just a regular guy, the only thing special being me memory reading ability. Now here I am, people like those students dyin' because o'me bein' here. People getting' hurt and suffering. I hate it."

"I wish…I wish I could make everything better. I wish I could bring back Brittany's parents, even her cat. I wish I could make your friends see I'm not a bad person and that I love you. I wish so many things I can't make happen. I'm sorry for that," Sam lamented quietly. "In a way I feel responsible—"

"No!" Rory blared suddenly, sitting ramrod stiff. "No! Ye'r not responsible at all! That thing would be after me no matter what. At least with ye', I 'ave a fighting chance. I don't regret being with ye'. My only regret is that I can't—"

Sam put his finger across the teen's lips, knowing exactly where he was going, and this was not the time to discuss it. He leaned in and kissed the teen, hoping to draw his attention away from his stresses even for just a moment. Rory accepted Sam's tongue into his mouth, closing his eyes and losing himself in the vampire's gentle touches as Sam's fingers lightly traced his arms, and then his chest. In vampiric speed, Sam shifted their positions, Rory sitting atop the desk, himself standing between the boy's knees, still kissing him.

Rory broke the kiss long enough to giggle. "I don't think I'll e'er get used to ye'r speed boosts. It's like e'erything just happens in an instant." Sam didn't reply, but merely captured the teen's gaze, their eyes locking, unblinking. He kissed the boy with more force, urging him onto his back as Sam pressed his chest against Rory's.

Sam took Rory's shirt and gripped the fabric in the middle and pulled, tearing it down the front, exposing the teen's hairless chest. Utilizing his extra speed, Sam suddenly appeared bare-chested himself, his shirt in a heap on the floor. Rory reached up to caress his boyfriend's muscular torso, but Sam pressed his hands on Rory's biceps and pushed them down against the desk, pinning him. With a sly grin, the blonde continued to kiss him roughly, nibbling lightly at his neck, careful not to bite him. Yet.

The brunette let out quiet moans as his boyfriend's kisses peppered his chest, the thick lips pausing at each nipple, tweaking just enough to send sensations to his groin. He was aching in his pants, the fabric stretching as much as it could. He could feel Sam's own firmness pressing up against his rear as he leaned down, kissing, licking, nipping.

Sam swiftly tore Rory's pants off of him, tossing the shredded clothing to the floor. Rory was unsure of exactly when Sam had removed his own pants, but now both of them were naked and aching.

Blaine sat in the living room, hearing the strange noises coming from the study. At first his curiosity was piqued, forcing him out of his seat and padding toward the study. The door was still open, light spilling into the foyer. What he saw was way more than he needed to—his blonde friend penetrating Rory atop his desk, the boy writhing in ecstasy, mewling with every thrust into his lithe body. Blaine knew there was no way he wouldn't be noticed if he shut the doors, so he merely backed away and returned to the living room, sighing to himself. Just seeing the brief scene, he felt an ache in his groin, an ache that needed tending to. He decided it was a good time to pay Kurt a visit upstairs for a little stress relief.

Back in the study, Sam was steadily thrusting himself into his boyfriend, over and over, speed increasing but never reaching the point of blurring. He had let go of the boy's biceps and instead grabbed his thighs, Rory's legs over Sam's shoulders, his toes wiggling as he continued to thrash in pleasure.

Sam continued to ravage him, intent on causing a hands-free orgasm. Anytime Rory tried to touch himself, Sam would let go of his thighs just long enough to smack his hand away.

After several more minutes he could feel the boy begin to tremble, Rory's heart rate increasing ever more and sweating twice as much. He was getting close to the point of no return. Sam was ready to burst himself at any moment, but he focused hard, forcing himself to stave off the impending eruption. When he knew that Rory was about to crash, he leaned over and bit the tender flesh of his neck, the boy letting out a cry of sheer pleasure and pain, a sound that signaled to Sam that he was having the most intense of orgasms.

As Sam felt the tight ring of muscle contracting around his thick erection, he could hold off no longer and allowed himself to explode, deep inside of his boyfriend, several hard, deep thrusts giving him the final waves of pleasure. As it came to an end, Sam leaned forward again and licked the blood from the boy's neck, then bit his bottom lip, several drops of his own blood dripping onto the fresh wound, forcing it to seal up, hiding the evidence. He then captured the teen's mouth again in passionate kisses.

Exhausted, Sam let himself fall back into the chair, the leather cool against his naked backside. A smug grin sat on his face as Rory slowly sat up. "I needed that," he said breathily.

"So did I. I hope I wasn't too rough. I didn't hurt you did I?"

Rory shook his head. "No, not at all. I feel great. Better than e'er."

Sam smiled. He reached forward and took Rory's hands in his own and gently pulled him into his lap. He rested his head in the crook of the brunette's shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment.

"I love you so much, you just don't know. I've never felt this way about anyone before. Not even Marley, and at the time I thought we would be together forever."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Sam regretted them. He knew that would trigger the teenager to bring up the topic of turning him into a vampire, but to Sam's surprise, Rory simply smiled and nuzzled his chin against Sam's head. The vampire was grateful—he had no desire to think about the idea of eternity without his boyfriend, but also the great responsibility and tragedy that accompanied becoming a vampire.

-ooo-

By the time the morning came and Blaine, Kurt, and Mercedes awoke, Sam was fast asleep in his coffin. The three of them sat in the kitchen, eating cereal.

"I want no part of this," Mercedes declared as she put a spoonful of oats in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed before going on. "All I see happening to us is getting hurt and or killed. This crazy shit should be left up to the superheroes."

"Rory is one of those people, you know. So are Mike and Tina, and I guess even me if you wanna get technical. Are you saying you're going to just walk away and leave all of us—your friends—to fend for ourselves?" Blaine challenged, confusion and hurt in his eyes.

Mercedes didn't say anything but merely shifted her eyes, refusing to look at him. A couple minutes of awkward silence passed before she finally spoke again. "All I'm saying is that there isn't anything us humans can do. We don't have super strength and speed, spells and magic and stuff. We're just—wait…" She stopped herself, suddenly realizing exactly what Blaine had said a few minutes earlier. "You said Mike and Tina are 'those people'… What do you mean by that?"

Blaine wasn't aware that his friends had no idea about the Asian couple. In conversation later in the night after he had ravaged Kurt and sought out a midnight snack, Sam had mentioned to him that among their group, Mike and Tina were also gifted with special abilities. Blaine assumed he was the last to know.

"I...Uh, crap," the younger teen replied. "I thought you knew."

"Knew  _what_?" Mercedes asked, her eyes already going wider than normal, her spoon laying still in the bowl, all desires for breakfast no longer important.

"That Mike and Tina are shapeshifters," Blaine answered. Kurt and Mercedes both stared at him like he had three heads. "They can turn into different animals. Kind of like a werewolf but not."

Kurt angrily stood up, hitting the table with his knee as he did so. "This is bullshit!" he exclaimed. "I can't take anymore of this! Vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, banshees, all kinds of evil stupid shit! I'm tired of it, I shouldn't have to put up with this!" he bellowed.

"No, no ye' shouldn't 'ave t'put up with it," Rory stated, coming into the kitchen, having just woken up. "No, ye' shouldn't 'ave to put up with helping ye'r friends out, tryin' to help them keep ye' safe from a banshee hellbent on killing until it gets one o' ye'r friends. No, ye' shouldn't 'ave to put up with doing the right thing."

Everyone stared at him, Blaine wondering if he was going to start a fireworks show out of anger. Rory's voice was steady and calm, and that was the scariest part of his speaking. Blaine sensed the hurt and rage and felt a modicum of pride in his friend for maintaining composure.

"But ye' know what else, Kurt? At the end o' the day, it isn't ye' she's after. Ye' could go home and go to sleep in ye'r nice cushy bed, but me? I 'ave to worry e'ery moment of me life now, hoping this  _thing_  doesn't kill me, or anyone else! I 'ave to worry about the safety of the people important to me—ye' guys—and all ye' can do is complain about how ye' shouldn't 'ave to put up with it." Rory was on a roll, his tone still firm and even, Blaine feeling chills down his spine as he thought about what exactly was going to come next.

"I shouldn't 'ave to worry about any of that. I shouldn't 'ave to worry about being killed, or me friends getting killed. I shouldn't 'ave to worry about reading people's memories, or lighting them up, or running away from some beast. I should be able to 'ave meals with me boyfriend, go out to the movies, go to work, go to school, get blasted if I want to. But no, I can't. I was given this… these abilities and now I 'ave to deal with it. The next time ye' feel like whining, think about all  _I_  'ave to deal with."

Kurt pursed his lips in shock. He had no idea how to respond. His friend was right, but at the same time that didn't make anything any easier. He hadn't expected such a tirade from Rory, a mellow and polite teenager who always kept a positive outlook even in his clumsiest moments. He finally looked down toward Mercedes, the young woman hanging her head either in shame or fear, he couldn't tell which. He then shifted his gaze toward Blaine.

"I need to get out of here. This is all too much for me," Kurt declared softly. "I'm sorry Rory, I can't handle this. It's too much. Just too much," he trailed off. He walked from behind the table and toward the front door, turning the knob and opening it.

When Kurt stepped out onto the porch, the sky began to darken. "What the hell?" he asked out loud. The clouds seemed to swirl from cotton white to an oily black. Kurt stared up at the sky, perplexed. Upon hearing him, his friends came out to join him, equally confused.

"Is it the barrier?" Mercedes asked, knowing full well it was a foolish question.

"No…I don't know what's doing that…It's not me," Blaine answered.

All traces of sunlight were gone, and along with it all sound seemed to disappear as well. There were no noises of birds or crickets, not even the gentle blowing of a breeze. It was dead air.

"Hey, do you hear that?" Kurt asked, hearing the faint sound of someone singing. "It's beautiful."

No one needed to answer as the singing began to get louder. A thick mist began to form in the yard, black and purple and red, all swirling until something solid stepped out of it.

Rory's eyes went wide as he recognized the thing before them. The banshee.

"Hello, leprechaun," the banshee, Rachel, cooed. "I've been looking all over for you."

"Leave us alone!" Rory shouted angrily. "Just get out of here and…and go to hell!" His pause drained all sense of ferocity from his order. Instead he sounded like a child struggling to talk back to a grown up.

Rachel ignored him as she seductively strolled up to the barrier. She pressed her lips up close to it as if kissing the sheet of light. There was suddenly a shrill noise that sounded like nails on a chalkboard. The barrier solidified, looking like a wall of glass. Cracks began to spiderweb all over it until it shattered into a million pieces, falling to the ground and disappearing.

"Oh fuck!" Mercedes screamed. The first thing that came to mind was the banshee screaming at them until they, too, shattered like the wall. The last thing she wanted was to end up like those unfortunate high-schoolers on the news.

Rachel approached the small group, her face emotionless. She suddenly felt heat all over her body, flashes of light stinging her eyes as the leprechaun was blasting her over and over with his magic. She ignored it and kept approaching.

Blaine, in an act of desperation, attempted to form a second barrier, but the wall of light faded before he even finished the spell.

Mercedes backed away through the door and turned to flee. The rest of them had no time to contemplate her as the banshee was only feet in front of them. Rachel reached forward and a ghastly arm formed over her normal arm, the fingers clawed. The bony fingers slid around her quarry, the woman screeching to keep her adversaries at bay. Kurt and Blaine were on the floor, holding their ears and crying out in pain. Rory's arms were locked at his sides, the banshee squeezing him so hard it hurt down to his bones.

None of them saw Mercedes emerge from the basement door and collapse on the floor as the ultrasonics hit her unexpectedly. None of them saw the inhuman blur as Sam ran from his sleeping quarters out to the front porch.

"Let go of him!" Sam demanded, his head aching, his ears bleeding slightly.

Rachel merely shook her head. She then backed away, taking her hostage with her. Rory had passed out, the pressure too much for his body to withstand consciously. Sam began to run at her, intent on catching her before she had time to flee. He never saw the woman snap her fingers, never saw the shattered glass reappear from the ground to reform the barrier the banshee had broken. He slammed into it so fast it threw him backward through the door and into the house, knocking him out. Sam never saw the banshee disappear into a cloud of mist, singing a song in a foreign language that sent Blaine and Kurt into an unconscious state.

Rachel finally had what she wanted. Rory in her grasp, her adversaries incapacitated and vulnerable. With Rory in her clutches, they had no choice but to do as she demanded, including giving themselves to her to use as she saw fit, all at the threat of their friend's suffering.

 


	10. Season 1, Episode 10: Yours, Mine, and Ours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Author's Notes: Wow, three chapters left including this one and our adventure will be over for this season! I already have a ton of ideas filling my head for season 2, and I am already excited about that! On another note, as I write this (April 22nd if you care to know) I am also working on the final few episodes of Trouty Mouth and the Leprechaun, contemplating a 3rd season or not. I will give a trigger warning for the latter portion of this chapter as it has some potentially disturbing content. Anyway, onward!_  
>  ****  
> Beta Credit: TVTime

**Season 1, Episode 10: Yours, Mine, and Ours**

Rory's eyes shot open abruptly, but there was nothing for him to see. He was in darkness. Not a bit of light anywhere. His entire body ached from his skin right down to the core of his bones. Gingerly, he sat up, feeling a dampness in his clothes. Wait, his clothes? He didn't have any clothes. Not normal clothes anyway. Everything had been stripped from him except one item: a pair of unfamiliar briefs. They itched slightly, the waistband a little more snug than he cared for. When he realized his briefs were wet because he was sitting in a small puddle, he couldn't help but take in a deep breath, expecting to smell urine. Instead he smelled only mustiness, an odor that reminded him of mothballs and mildew. No, he wasn't sitting in piss; he was sitting in moldy water.

He blinked his eyes several times, forcing his vision to adjust to the darkness. Slowly but surely things came into focus. The walls looked like stone. They were; he felt them to make sure. On the far wall was something dark and striped. He reached out to touch it and it was cold metal. Bars. A jail. He was in a jail or cage of some sort.

His first inclination was to panic. He was in an unknown prison that smelled like mold and had no light anywhere. He had been robbed of his clothing and given a pair of too-small briefs, and worse yet, the air made him cough. It was stale, no surprises there, and it felt thicker than normal. It took more energy to breathe, but it could have been a trick of the mind, his panic setting in.

"Hello?!" he finally called out. It seemed hokey to just shout out like that, but he couldn't think of anything else to do. As soon as the words left his lips he wondered what kind of  _thing_  would come out of the darkness to greet him. Perhaps he should have been silent instead, but the damage was done. He had called out and possibly alerted whatever was keeping him hostage that he was indeed awake.

The last thing he remembered was being grabbed by the banshee and forced into unconsciousness. He hadn't sensed movement upon arriving at their destination, nor had he felt the rough hands on his body as his clothes had been removed. He decided it was probably best that he didn't remember it—his captors may have physically violated him and the very thought of that made him ill. As far as Rory was concerned, his body belonged to only one person, and that was Sam.

"Where am I!?" he called out again. His voice lightly echoed down what he assumed was a long hallway. "Let me out o' here! Now!"

"I'm coming, shit! Quit making all that noise. It's giving me a headache!" came a masculine voice he didn't recognize. There was a slight squeaking noise, but no sound of footsteps. At last he saw a beacon of light coming down the hall. It was moving too smoothly to be carried by someone. It almost appeared to be mounted on a cart or something. No, not a cart, a wheelchair.

"I'm Artie, the jailor, among many other things," the man said, wheeling himself into view on the other side of the bars. He sounded annoyed. The light shined enough to illuminate his face and the area directly in front of him, but little else. Rory could see that the man wore thick, nerdy glasses and a rather vintage-looking vest over his button up shirt. He didn't look like any jailor or guard the captive had ever seen before, but rather a typical high school teenager.

"Where am I?" Rory asked. He attempted to sound confident, but his voice cracked slightly.

"Doesn't matter," Artie replied with a cocky grin. "I've been sent to fetch you, but you look nowhere near ready to address the lady of the house." His eyes roved up and down the teenager, a look of disgust on his face. "You're coming with me to clean up and change, then you'll see her."

"Her who?" the teen wondered aloud. He didn't receive an answer, but instead was met with a smirk. Rory looked into the man's tired eyes, but what he saw there scared him. It was an abyss of pure pain. He didn't need to see into the jailor's head to pick up on the immense torment locked inside.

"Give me your hands," the wheelchair-bound man ordered calmly. Rory made no inclination to move. "I said  _give me your hands_ ," he demanded sternly. This time, Rory stuck his hands vertically between two of the bars. Artie slapped on a pair of handcuffs—the old kind used before zip ties. When they were secured around the teenager's wrists, Rory pulled them back through, resting his tired arms in front of his stomach. Artie unlatched the door to the cell with a key that looked like it came right out of an old movie. When the door was open, he slapped a chain around the middle of the cuffs, effectively leashing the boy to his chair.

"Hey, what gives?" Rory demanded. "I'm not a dog!"

Another smirk from Artie was his answer. "Follow me. Keep up, I don't need you falling face first into my wheels." In any other situation, the remark would have been funny, but at the moment Rory felt anything but humor.

Artie began to wheel himself down the corridor. Rory followed quickly behind him, being careful not to trip or allow the chain to pull taut.

"Where are we going?" Rory demanded, irritated that the man was ignoring his questions. Silence. "I at least 'ave the right to know where we're going."

More silence.

Sighing loudly, Rory decided to give up on interrogating the jailor. He obviously wasn't going to give an answer.

They reached the end of the passage and turned left down another long hall that had several doors on either side. They stopped in front of a door with an etching on the front of it in a language the teenager didn't recognize. The jailor reached forward and unlocked it with his key and then pushed the door open.

Artie wheeled inside, nodding toward another man standing inside the room. It was otherwise empty, except for what looked like a hose of some sort connected to the wall, and a drain on the floor.

"This is Ryder. He's going to assist you in getting ready. I suggest you don't give him any trouble. He has the strength and skill of Kitty—an incubus in his own right. You don't want to test that out, I assure you," Artie said sternly. He reached forward and unclasped first the chain, and then the handcuffs. Rory rubbed his wrists, the tight metal having dug into his skin.

"Ryder, bring him along when he's ready. I have things to do," the jailor ordered. "If he gets unruly, subdue him, but don't kill him. She wants him alive."

Ryder nodded and smiled. There was more light in this room, coming from numerous candles in sconces on the walls. Rory was able to easily make out the man's features. He was about the same height as Rory, but with broader shoulders and chest. He wore no clothing, not even a pair of underwear. His hair was neat and soft, his eyes alluring and glowing a pale teal. Rory couldn't help but feel a slight tingling in his underwear, but he mentally forced the thoughts away. It was the influence of the incubus and nothing more.

The incubus approached him with a friendly demeanor, unlike Artie who had been rather abrupt and rude. "Hello Rory," he said. "As he said, I'm Ryder. Pleased to meet you." He held out his hand to shake as if they were meeting at a social engagement.

Figuring it best not to anger a being as powerful as the woman who had bested his boyfriend, he shook the man's hand, feeling the heat emanating from it.

"Yeah, nice to meet ye'," Rory replied. "So what's going on here? Why am I here? Who is  _she_? What—"

Ryder held up his hand to silence him. "I can't answer most of those questions. I'm not allowed to. I'm just supposed to get you ready to meet  _her_ , and that's it. I'm not supposed to tell you anything else."

The teen couldn't help but look the man up and down, noting his tightly corded muscles and chiseled abs. The man was also well endowed, rivaling Sam's own gifts below.

"I can tell you this. I am an incubus, and I was given this particular assignment because you'll be more docile with me. Don't get me wrong, I can be terse if I have to, but at the base of it, I'm a nice guy mixed up in something bigger I can't begin to explain. I just follow my orders and my nature."

"What  _is_  an incubus exactly?" Rory asked, only familiar with the rock band, Incubus, which he was pretty sure had nothing to do with Ryder.

Ryder smiled softly. "An incubus is the male version of a succubus, putting it simply. I wait for men or women to fall asleep and then I enter their minds, seeking out their pleasure spools and inviting them to let me spread my seed. The men are purely for pleasure, but the females…the females are for my species to procreate since it is incredibly rare to breed a full-blooded demon like ourselves."

"Wait, wait, wait. Ye' mean ye' rape people in their sleep?"

"If that's what you want to call it I suppose. I do make it so they desire me. They give me permission, its just… permission granted through persuasion so to speak," the incubus explained.

"I thought ye' said ye' were a nice guy. Nice guys don't rape people or take advantage of them that way," Rory pointed out indignantly.

Ryder's shoulders slumped. "I still have my nature. I can't forgo that. But I don't rape in the sense of the word. Many incubi outright force themselves on their quarry, not bothering to persuade them the way I do. Instead they force their victim down and savagely penetrate them until they are satisfied and then they leave, the victim in a state of despair. I don't like to do that."

Rory rolled his eyes. "So ye'r a nice guy because ye' don't rape people, ye' just make them want ye'? Sounds like bollocks to me."

Ryder frowned. "Don't judge, okay? I don't judge you. I just have a job to do, and a nature to follow. I didn't choose this life, but it's what I was dealt and it's what I have to do. Now, if you don't mind, remove your underwear."

"No!" Rory declared, suddenly agitated, backing away from Ryder. "I'm not getting naked and ye'r not going to rape me! Don't e'en try it! I 'ave abilities ye' know!" He held up his hands in a defensive stance, but his palms weren't warming up very much at all.

"You can't use your power right now. You're too weak. Artie injected you with some sort of, oh what did he call it? Dampener? Anyhow please, Rory, remove your underwear. I don't want to take it from you," Ryder stated. Rory refused again. Ryder reached before him, putting his fingertips on the waistband and in one smooth motion, pulled the briefs off of the boy, the fabric tearing effortlessly. He tossed the rag aside and took in the sight before him.

"Don't be shy," Ryder said as Rory covered himself with his hands. "You're a handsome young man. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, we're about to get a lot more intimate than just looking."

"What!? I can't use me power but I can still fight! Don't make me!"

"Calm down. It's not what you think, Rory. I'm not going to sexually accost you. I am going to bathe you, however, and see to your clothing, so I will be seeing your nudity quite a bit. Now, let your hands at your sides and relax. I mean you no harm at all, I promise."

Rory looked at the man skeptically, his hands dropping down unconsciously. Ryder was a handsome man indeed, and he genuinely seemed like a nice person, even if he was working for 'her.' The man's eyes drew the boy in, a calming effect falling over him. He also began to smell the faint scent of coconut.

Ryder pushed in one of the bricks on the wall, and from the stone slid out another brick structure. It was about waist high and hollow inside, like a basin.

"In you go my friend," Ryder said, nodding toward the tub. "Go on, get in. It's safe, I assure you," he added. "It's only water." He held out his hand, allowing Rory to use him for balance. The reluctant teenager cautiously climbed into the empty tub, not noticing as Ryder took the hose and placed the end of it on the edge of the stone. "I'm afraid the water might not be as warm as you're used to."

The liquid began to flow, quickly filling the tub as it gushed through the hose. It wasn't freezing, but it wasn't exactly warm either. It was more of a room temperature. Rory shivered as the liquid rose around his shins and then up to his knees. It was rising incredibly fast, but then again the basin wasn't particularly huge either.

"Just sit down real fast. Get it over with. It won't take long," the incubus encouraged. Rory took a deep breath before taking Ryder's advice and plunging his lithe frame into the cool water. He let out a quiet cry of distaste, swearing in Gaelic. He was too bothered by the cold to worry about the fact that Ryder had reached in with a cloth and bar of soap and began to rub at his skin. His touch was tender, not at all like a monster's hands should be.

Rory tolerated the bath, insisting that he be allowed to clean his own groin and hindquarters. The incubus politely agreed, and waited as the boy finished the task. Ryder then soaped and rinsed the teen's hair and announced that they were finished.

"I have a towel for you," Ryder said, turning to a short table that Rory hadn't noticed before. It may not have been there earlier, considering that some of these bricks were pushable. Ryder could easily have pressed one and made a table slide out from the wall. Ryder held the towel open and smiled. "Come on, out you come. Wrap up and warm up."

The teen quickly climbed out of the tub, throwing himself into the warmth of the towel—the fabric a soft terry cloth. He took a moment to enjoy the feeling before drying himself off.

"I have clothes for you," Ryder announced, turning back to the table. A pair of dark blue jeans, a white tee shirt, and a green plaid sweater vest awaited him, a pair of socks and black and white shoes sitting next to the items.

"These are pretty comfy. I thought I was supposed to look all…regal or something. If she's so great, why not a suit and tie?" the teen inquired.

Ryder smiled again. "I find it best not to ask questions. Be thankful, I'd rather wear that then some stuffy suit. Now go on, get dressed and then I'll fix your hair."

Rory couldn't help but chuckle. It all seemed so stupid to go through these lengths of presentation just to put him in casual clothing. It was overtly theatrical and he wondered for a moment if the banshee had a 'thing' for old style ceremony and custom. Shrugging it away, he decided to comply and put on the outfit provided for him, eager to be dressed again.

"You look very handsome," Ryder complimented. "Now sit on the table—don't get your jeans dirty—and let me style your hair." Where the incubus acquired hair gel, Rory didn't know, but he let the man work his dark hair without question. "Ah, now you look perfect! I wish I had a mirror for you!" The man stood back a moment and admired his charge. Ryder actually had an affectionate look in his eyes, a look that belied his incubi nature. There was something more there than just lust, rather some kind of respect.

"Thank ye'," Rory replied. It was the first time he smiled since he had woken up. It felt good to get a compliment from someone so handsome who didn't happen to be his own boyfriend. He just had to ask the burning question, however. "Ye' do seem far too nice to be in line with this banshee creature. Why are ye' here?"

Ryder's smile began to fade, a faraway look filling his eyes. It was obvious he was struggling with something internally as he contemplated his answer. After a minute of pure silence and reflection, he finally replied. "I'm not here because I want to be. I am in debt to her. That's all I can say."

Rory looked into the man's eyes, sensing the pain there. It was a different kind of pain than what was in Artie's eyes. Ryder obviously wasn't going to share his past history about what his debt was, but whatever it was, it was sorrowful for the incubus.

"Ye' know something, Ryder?" Rory began. "I 'ave friends coming for me. I know they are. When they get here, and we get this all taken care of, I'll make sure ye' get out o' here. Ye'll be a free man. The only thing is…ye' 'ave to promise me to change ye'r ways. I know it's ye'r nature to seduce the men and women, but why not try and actually get them to like ye' for ye'? Maybe even find a boyfriend or girlfriend. Then ye' could get all ye'r needs from the same person, and maybe be happy."

Ryder scratched his head, confused. "Why would you do that? I'm an incubus. A dangerous creature with a hungry nature. You have no way to force me to do what you want. I could be lying to you if I said I would do it. Besides, your friends may come, but they may not be able to help you."

Rory gave the man a soft smile, refusing to entertain the idea that Sam might not be able to rescue him afterall. "Ye' 'ave more self control than ye' think. After all, ye' managed not to take me, and here we were, naked and alone. Ye' could 'ave done anything ye' wanted at any time, but ye' didn't."

The incubus looked thoughtful. The boy was right—he  _had_  resisted, but that was because Rachel had ordered it. Or was it?

"I think if I helped ye' escape from here, from her debt, I think ye' would make the effort," Rory stated confidently.

"You have no reason to trust me, young man."

"Maybe not. But I don't 'ave a reason  _not_  to trust ye' either. I think even if ye'r an incubus, ye' still 'ave ye'r pride as a person. Ye'r honor. I think if ye' give me ye'r word, you'd stick to it. I wouldn't know if ye' didn't, but I think ye' 'ave a stronger heart than that."

Ryder stared at him, his head running at max speed, still failing to understand why this human was willing and eager and capable of assisting him. It made no sense at all.

"Just give me ye'r word, and I'll help ye'. After that, it's up to ye' to make good on it or not. I can't force ye' either way, but just ye'r word is enough for me," Rory said.

Before their conversation could continue, Artie rolled in, a sneer on his face. "About time. Come on, the cuffs gotta go back on, I'm not having you run off." He slapped the cuffs back on the teen, and then tethered him to the chair.

"Think about it, Ryder. Ye' showed me kindness, even if ye'r supposed to be a monster," the teen reminded him.

Ryder watched as Rory followed Artie out of the room, but just before the door closed, he called out to the boy. "Rory! You have my word!" he declared. Rory simply smiled, pleased with himself. The man had been genuinely kind to him, and he hated to see anyone in slavery, especially if it was undeserved. He didn't know the terms of his debt, but someone with such a kind demeanor deserved another chance. He had no way to know if Ryder would actually keep his word or not, but faith in the incubi's integrity was enough to satisfy him. At the very least, the entire exchange had given him a strange kind of comfort in such an uncertain situation.

"Don't bother running your mouth to him, giving him false hopes and all," Artie scolded as they made their way further down the hall. "You have no hope of getting out of here, and neither does he."

Quick on his thoughts, Rory supplied a small lie of a response. "I was simply remindin' him that just because he's an ink ye' bus, that he doesn't 'ave to feel bad about being nice to people."

Artie sneered. "I'm not stupid, boy. I know what you were talking about. As I said, you have no hope of leaving this place. You belong to the mistress now. Ryder, too, will be hers to repay his debt to her. He is no more an asset to your cause than a common housefly."

Rory rolled his eyes, saying nothing. There was no point in arguing or agitating the man. He knew in his heart that Sam was coming for him, and that's all he needed to know. He continued to follow the surly demeanor on wheels to the end of the passageway where an old-fashioned elevator stood open, waiting for them. It took them up what had to be at least five floors before stopping.

The small foyer where the elevator stopped looked much different than the one below. It was still stone, but it looked cleaner and had colorful tapestries hanging down.

"She sure likes her artwork. This stuff must be-" Rory began, admiring the tapestries and painting as they continued into a new hallway.

"Hundreds of years old," Artie finished sarcastically. "I'll be glad when I drop you off. You talk too much."

Rory sighed, annoyed, stopping in front of a large ornate door. Artie pressed in on a stone in the side, and the door opened on its own. It revealed a large room filled with mirrors and golden frames. The walls themselves were a pure, white marble with the mirrors embedded inside, keeping them flush. Elaborate chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Between the framed mirrors were more tapestries and paintings. At first it was overwhelming, but overall it was rather tacky, as if purposely made to look 'over the top'.

At the very back of the room was a large throne, golden and trimmed with various colored stones. The seat was velvet and red, every bit the stereotypical king's seat.

"This is a wee bit theatrical, isn't it?" Rory commented, looking around.

"Of course it is," came the soft, feminine voice he had become accustomed to hearing sing in the night. She stepped fully into the room, having entered from an unseen door. She wore a solid black dress with gold trim, her hair loose and curled. "I enjoy theatrics. You must remember, I come from a time when things such as this were held in high regard. Even the biggest eyesores were considered regal compared to the rags of the commoner."

"I'd rather 'ave a plain rag for a curtain than these ugly things," the teen retorted smugly. The woman crossed the room instantly, slapping him across the face with a loud crack.

"You have a smart mouth. I'll fix that quick enough!" Rachel declared. "I'd cut out your tongue, but I have heard you sing. It would be an awful waste." She then turned her attention to Artie and smiled sweetly. "Unchain him and remove the cuffs. I will call on you later."

Artie nodded and quickly unclasped the chain from the handcuffs and wheeled himself out of the room, muttering unintelligibly to himself.

"He's efficient but very moody," Rachel explained. "He's also very talented in ways I am certain you will never know about." Rory shrugged, keeping his eyes on the mysterious woman, unconcerned with her peon's talents. "So I guess you're wondering what you're doing here, right?"

"Aye, the thought had crossed me mind," the teen replied. Rachel's eyes turned cold a moment before she let another smile cross her lips.

The banshee walked slow, sensual circles around her captive, letting her fingertips brush against his arms, his cheeks, his chin. "Well let me put you at ease first, my dear. I have no intention to kill you. In fact, that is the least of my desires for you." She stopped behind him and leaned in, her lips right next to his ear. "I want your blood, dear boy, but I want it for eternity."

A shiver went down the teen's spine as the words resonated in his head. "Blood? Why?" he stammered.

"It's always blood, isn't it?" she cooed, moving to face him, their noses almost touching. "Blood is the essence of life. Every living creature has blood in it. It's what keeps them going. Why do you think vampires need it so bad? It nourishes the body. It keeps them 'alive'."

"But Artie said ye'r art was hundreds of years old. If ye'r already so old, why are ye' worried about needing more life? Aren't ye' like the vampires? Ye' can't age or die?" Rory asked, confused. "And what's so special about me, that ye' 'ave to 'ave  _my_ blood?"

The banshee smiled sweetly as she backed away a foot more. She placed her fingertip in the center of Rory's chest, staring up into his eyes. "It's not the immortality I desire. No, I have that already. There's something else much more special about your blood. You're the last remaining leprechaun known to man, boy. Don't you know what a leprechaun's blood can do?"

"No," he said, shaking his head.

Rachel continued to grin. "It acts as an enhancing agent. When a girl like me takes it into herself, it keeps her young and beautiful and extends her life. Of course that's not a concern of mine, but some might find it advantageous. More importantly, it enhances my natural abilities. My voice could shatter mountains, my strength would allow me to bend steel. My magic would become stronger, more powerful. You see where I'm going with this…If I imbibe your blood, I can become the closest thing to a god this world could have."

Rory shuddered. "Ye' think that by drinking me blood, ye' can be a god? Sounds like ye' might be o'erestimating me power," he said his voice cracking slightly.

"No, no, I know what I'm talking about. Furthermore, to sustain that power, I would need to drink from you day after day. Being the only living leprechaun, I need you to stay around for a long, long time. See, leprechaun, I know your secret to a long life. I know how even you can live forever."

Despite his fear, the first thing to cross his mind was that if what she said was true, he could live forever with Sam, without being turned vampire. The banshee's squeal of delight broke his thoughts as she detailed exactly what would allow him to keep going well after his years. "You're like a battery that needs charging. You can drain the life force from someone, using it to sustain your youth and life. The sad part for you, however, is that it would most likely kill anyone you took life energy from. Bam, dead, kapow." She made motions with her hands, miming shooting someone followed by an explosion. "Of course, nothing comes without sacrifice."

"If me blood makes someone so powerful, then how come Sam ne'er had any effects after drinking me? Explain that!" the teen asked eagerly.

"How do you know he didn't? When did he drink you? While you were making love, correct?" She leaned in extremely close, her mouth brushing his ear. "Or were you simply…  _fucking_?" she asked, putting hard emphasis on the vulgar word.

Rory's face flushed a little, embarrassed at being asked such a personal question. "Y-y-yes. I mean, we weren't  _fucking_  we were making love. We mean more to each other than that. That's the only time I've let him bite me. The only time he e'er tried, and I had to beg him e'en then." He had no idea why he expounded on his answer. Perhaps he wanted to make absolutely sure the banshee knew that Sam was a much better intentioned person than she thought he was.

"If he's like any other man after sex, he wants only to sleep, or eat, or something else equally a waste of time. How would he notice any enhancement if he isn't trying to use it?" Rachel took pleasure in the teen's discomfort at discussing his sexual activities. "No need to be shy, we're all adults here. Tell me I'm wrong."

Rory's icy glare was enough of an answer for her. She smirked and turned to her throne. "See, a stupid man wasting a valuable resource. You could do better, and that 'better' is me."

"How's that? Ye' 'ave nothing I want! No way in the world ye' are any better than Sam! Ye'r nothing compared to him!"

"I will have plenty for you soon enough, and when I do, you'll have no choice in the matter. Not if you want to see the people important to you continue existing. Remember those news stories? The massacre in what just so happened to be your home? Yes, that was a fortunate coincidence. But yes, that was me. You saw the bodies. You saw the leftovers. I know you did. Do you want your friends, do you want  _Sam,_  to end up like that? Or worse?" she taunted. "If it isn't me that will shred them, it will be Kitty, and she is far less merciful than I."

Rory clenched his fists, feeling the heat rising. His jaw was clamped down so hard it hurt, his breathing deep. He slowly began to raise his hands in front of himself, the now familiar glow intensifying as the dampening agent was apparently wearing thin. Rachel smiled and then held her hand out, inspecting her nails as if nothing was going on in front of her.

The teen spread his fingers as the heat inside of him surged out toward the banshee, the crackling beams looking all the more intense by their reflections in the mirrors. Rachel sighed and opened her mouth, letting out an ear-splitting wail. The surge of energy slammed against an invisible shield in the air—her ultrasonic sound waves crashing against his barrier of light. The mirrors shook, and then shattered, shards of glass flying everywhere. Rory stopped the blast, ducking to avoid the glass. Without any further resistance to hold it back, the sound waves traveled the rest of the way through the room, crashing into the teen and shoving him up against the far wall. He fell onto all fours, his fingers and knees stinging as he landed on slivers of mirror.

"You didn't really think it'd be that easy did you?" Rachel taunted, standing up. She slowly glided on her feet toward the injured teenager and stopped just in front of him, her feet directly under his face. She crouched down and wrapped her fingers around his throat and stood, dragging him to his feet. "You're lucky that I want your blood and need you alive, otherwise I would kill you right now. Do you know how expensive those mirrors were?"

Rory clutched at the woman's hand, trying to pry her fingers away from his throat. Breathing was becoming harder as she increased the pressure. "Oh, looks like you cut yourself," Rachel commented casually. With her free hand she took one of his wrists in her fingertips and brought his palm toward her mouth. She stuck out her tongue and erotically licked the blood from the tiny wounds, moaning with approval. As the liquid life slid down her throat, a faint glow went with it, lighting up her throat and into her core. Satisfied, she dropped him back onto the floor, his hands and knees landing on the glass again.

The teen gasped for air, ignoring the pain. He reached up with one hand and tried to force another burst of energy, but all that happened was mild crackling around his fingertips.

"A little tired I see. You should have behaved yourself. I was going to let you dine with me. You're a lucky boy, Rory. You really are," Rachel went on. She snapped her fingers, the sound abnormally loud. A moment later, Artie wheeled, and Ryder marched, into the room, the latter wearing a button up shirt and slacks, all in black, except for a pair of gold suspenders and bow tie. "Take the brat to his room."

Ryder knelt down to help Rory to his feet, a genuine look of concern on his face. When they stood back up, Rachel was only a foot away from them, looking smug. "I guess this is goodnight for now. I really advise you to think about cooperating from now on."

"Ye' talk too much," Rory rasped, his throat sore from her grip. He managed to work up enough saliva however to spit at the woman, hitting her square in the face, the clear liquid dripping down her cheeks.

Rachel's eyes went bright red all of a sudden and she raised her hand, backhanding Rory across the face. The crack of cartilage snapping filled the room and blood began to gush from his nose. "Get him out of here, NOW!" the angry banshee bellowed, reaching up to her face and wiping the muck away.

Ryder gingerly pinched Rory's nose to stem the blood flow, apologizing for the additional pain. "I'll fix you up when we get to your room, I promise," he whispered, his eyes filled with sorrow, the beautiful glow from before paler still. Once they were out of the room and the door was shut, all three of them heard the high-pitched angry screech of Rachel, the final pieces of jagged glass falling from the frames onto the floor.

"That was really stupid," Artie said flatly. He didn't bother with cuffs or chains as the boy wasn't going anywhere without Ryder's help. The handsome attendant held onto the injured boy and guided him down the halls until they reached a door. "This is your room. You can't get out, so don't bother trying." He then turned his attention to Ryder. "Take care of the dumb shit. I'm putting you in charge of him for now. Keep him out of trouble."

"Yes, sir," Ryder replied earnestly. Artie unlocked the door and waited impatiently as the incubus took his charge inside. Artie slammed the door shut and locked it, rolling away muttering as always.

Ryder led the teen directly into the bathroom, sitting him down on the toilet lid. "Tilt your head back," he instructed, his fingers still clasping Rory's bloodied nose. With his free hand he took a towel from the rack and held it close to the boy's face. "I'm gonna let go now. Hold this under your nose to catch the bleeding while I figure out how to patch you up."

When Ryder removed his fingers, Rory's face felt a new surge of fire emanating from his nose. The pressure had hurt, but it had quickly turned his nose numb, however the release brought all the pain right back. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, his breaths coming out ragged. Ryder opened the medicine cabinet, which was closer to a medicine  _closet_. Everything imaginable was stocked inside as if the banshee expected Rory to need constant medical attention.

"I'm going to lessen the pain for you," the incubus told him. "To do it, I have to kiss you. One of my talents is to alter the human nervous system. Normally I do it to super charge sexual energy, but I can also do the opposite and dull your senses. It will make you feel rather numb, but it'll help ease the pain." Ryder moistened his lips and stared down at the pained teen. "I promise not to take advantage of you, Rory."

The teen nodded slightly, his cheeks still stained with tears. Ryder took a couple of small pieces of gauze from the countertop then pulled the towel away from Rory's face. The bleeding hadn't stopped, but it had significantly slowed down. Ryder very gently packed the boy's nostrils with the gauze, sending fresh pain into his patient's head.

"I'm sorry," Ryder said. He wiped the sticky blood from Rory's upper lip and then cautiously bent downward, pressing his lips against the leprechaun's. Rory closed his eyes, reminding himself that this wasn't for pleasure. This was strictly to relieve the pain. It felt strange having someone's lips other than Sam's against his, feeling someone else's tongue entering his mouth. Ryder kissed him for what seemed like a very long period of time, a strange coolness coming from the incubus' mouth. It was a cold that spread from Rory's mouth outward, to his entire face up to his head, down his throat and into the rest of his tired body. The longer the chill remained, the less he felt his body.

Ryder finally broke the kiss, standing back up tall. "If you have a significant other and they find out, I'll take responsibility for that. I don't want them to be angry with you," he said softly. "A man as handsome as yourself must surely have a boyfriend, or girlfriend. The incubus wasn't very familiar with the emotions touching his heart and mind as he stared at the boy. He wasn't devoid of feeling for other people, but in his years of submitting to his nature he hadn't actually felt real affection for  _almost_  anyone. They were merely victims to his cause. There was something about this teenager that was different. It reminded him of someone important from his past; the only person he ever loved. It was the person that Ryder had convinced himself was responsible for his sense of humanity, despite his demonic origin. Even with the pangs of sadness the memories gave him, it put Ryder at ease.

The man wet a washcloth and washed the blood and tears from the boy's face and his neck where it had dribbled down his chin. "There, that's better," he said with a slight smile. Rory attempted to smile back, but it was difficult to do with his face feeling like he had just come from a dentist overdosing him on frosty Novocaine. Ryder then wiped clean the teen's hands and wrapped them in a thin layer of bandages. He tore off Rory's jeans and repeated the patching up process on the teen's knees.

Without another word, the 'nurse' assisted his new friend to the bedroom. "Your clothes are ruined and you'll want to be comfortable to sleep. I'll help you." Rory stood at the bedside, steadying himself on the bedpost despite the fact he could barely sense his fingers on the polished wood. He watched as Ryder walked to the wardrobe and removed a fresh pair of pajamas and from the drawer and a pair of underwear. He returned to his friend and carefully helped him out of the rest of his clothes and into his nightwear.

"Lay back in bed and I'm going to place an icepack on your face. It will keep the swelling down," Ryder informed him. Rory did as he was told and waited as the man prepared the icepack. Ryder sat on the edge of the bed and turned sideways to place the pack. "You might feel cold already, but it's not the same as icing your injury." He paused a moment before positioning the pack over the teen's already swelling face. "You know, that really was a stupid thing to do. She's very powerful. I don't want to see you hurt."

Rory finally forced a grin. "It was worth it," he croaked out. The incubus couldn't help but chuckle before leaning down and kissing him on the forehead. He then brushed his fingertips over the teen's eyelids, shutting them and using his magic to send him off to sleep.

-ooo-

"Where is he!?" Sam shouted at the top of his lungs as he stormed up the stairs from his basement coffin. He wasn't sure how he had ended up in there, but it was a good thing since as soon as Rachel left, the clouds started to dissipate and shortly after, the sun was shining through into the house.

The door slammed open so hard that it flew off the hinges, splintering against the wall. "I said where is he!?" he demanded again, his voice booming through the house.

Mercedes sat on the couch next to Kurt and Blaine, all three of them hanging their heads, afraid to look up at Sam.

"God damn it! Where the  _fuck_  is Rory?!" the vampire shouted angrily, facing all three of the humans. Mercedes winced at the sound while Kurt and Blaine held hands, squeezing tightly. The last thing any of them wanted was an angry vampire, and aside from Blaine, none of them were equipped to defend themselves against him if he went off the deep end.

"She took him," Mercedes finally whispered. Sam rushed up to her and shook her, forcing her to look up at him. "Watch it! That hurts!" she yelled, her fear temporarily ignored out of rage. "Get your hands off of me, I didn't hand him over to her!"

Sam let go of her and stood upright, sighing. "I'm sorry," he muttered and turned to walk away. Mercedes reached out and grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'm afraid and angry and I don't deal well with that."

"We want to rescue him as much as you do, but without knowing  _where_  she took him, there isn't much we can do," the girl said softly, her voice quivering nontheless. "Being crazy isn't going to help."

Sam grit his teeth and yanked his hand away, stomping off to his office. He needed to get away from the humans for a moment.  _They don't get it! She's going to drain every bit of him dry, and they are clueless!_

The vampire threw the office doors open so hard they, too, flew off the hinges and hit the walls with a loud crack. He then picked up the large chair that sat before the desk and launched it toward the glass display cases, shattering them. The desk itself was next, hefted over his head and catapulted into the wall of bookcases. He could barely see through the red haze of blood filling his eyes and sliding down his cheeks.

With everything in the study having been tossed and broken, he came back to the living room. The three teenagers were still sitting on the couch, clutching onto each other in fear.

"Sam, calm down!" Blaine shouted as a recliner whizzed past his head and out of the window. "Sam! Stop!" he yelled, getting up. "This is insane! It's not helping!"

Blaine's words were in vain, however, as Sam continued to let out his anger on the coffee table, punching it and splitting it four ways, his fist hitting the floor and leaving a small hole. Still on overdrive, the vampire rushed forward toward the stone reinforced wall and began punching it mercilessly, chunks of cement sailing past his head and toward the frightened teenagers, who had moved behind the couch to avoid the debris.

Sam slowed down his barrage of punches as he tired himself out, slumping to his knees and weakly throwing his fists at the unfortunate brick. Even with his enhanced strength, the constant assault on his flesh was tearing it, blood streaking over his hands.

The brave one, Blaine cautiously approached him, putting his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Got it all out of your system now?" he asked sternly. The vampire turned his head and glared up at the warlock, his cheeks stained with bloody tears, his eyes just as red. Despite not needing to breathe, he was panting.

Blaine knelt down next to him, keeping his hand on the man's arm. "Calm down. Right now," he ordered before draping his arms across Sam's shoulders, hugging him tightly from behind. "Rory needs you now, and not like this."

"She's going to kill him," Sam stammered. "She may already have done it."

Before Blaine could respond, the vampire felt the comforting man being pulled away and his body being shoved around and backward. There was a loud crack and his face lit on fire as a dark hand slapped him, smearing the bloodstains.

"Rory isn't dead you dumb shit!" Mercedes hollered. "He isn't dead," she repeated hoarsely, tears of her own flowing down her dark cheeks. "Don't say that. He isn't dead." She stared him right in the eyes, no longer concerned that he would cast his mind control spell on her. He wouldn't dare try it, not on her, not right now. "Now get up, wash your face, and let's get to work figuring out what to do about this."

"Sam… is it true, about the bond between a vampire and a human once they've shared blood?" Blaine asked. The vampire nodded hesitantly. "Shouldn't you be able to sense him, or something? Can't you  _feel_  if he's hurt or…or worse?"

Sam sighed as he brought himself to his feet. "You're a genius, Blaine. I can't believe I was so stupid not to think of that!" He immediately quieted down and shut his eyes, trying to concentrate. He made several funny faces as he did so. "I can't sense him, not like I normally can. I think that's it, I've gotten so used to being able to  _feel_  him, I forgot about it. He isn't dead, though. I can tell that much. I can't explain the feeling, it's…"

"Faith," Mercedes said quietly. "It's faith. You know in your heart the truth." She smiled warmly at the man for the first time. "Now get moving before I have to slap you again," she added with a wink. "And you know I will if I have to. We all have to be strong for Rory right now."

"Thanks. I think I needed that," he said, nodding toward her. She chuckled as he walked past her, sidestepping the ruined table. "You can come out now," he added, addressing Kurt who was still hiding behind the couch. "I'm done throwing a temper tantrum."

Kurt peered over the edge of the couch and slowly stood up, glancing first at his friends and then at the vampire as he disappeared into the bathroom. "That was scary," the teen said, rushing over to Blaine and hugging him. "Leave it to Mercedes to put a man in his place," he added.

"Somebody had to, what with all that 'he's dead' talk. I don't do negativity in a crisis," she announced with pride. "Sadly, I don't know what to do next. I mean, how do we find where the crazy bitch took him?"

"I have an idea. I'm going to Scandals to see Sebastian. He's got sources. I want you three to get Mike and Tina. I'll need their help," Sam stated, returning to the room upon hearing their conversation. "Then Kurt, Mercedes, I want you two to go home. Mike, Tina, and Blaine can use their abilities but you two are human. I don't want you getting hurt."

Mercedes was about to open her mouth but Kurt beat her to it, his voice filled with an unusual tone of determination and bravery. "Rory's our friend too, you know. Mercedes and I are coming with you. No arguments."

"But-" Sam started, but Kurt interrupted him.

"But nothing. Arm us to the teeth. I know you have resources. Guns, knives, whatever can cause some damage," the teen said. "If Blaine is being forced into this, I'm doing what I can to at least  _try_  and protect him."

"Uhm bulletproof vests would be nice too. I wear a size eighteen," Mercedes interjected. "And don't forget I got a lot of boobage going on here, so make sure it isn't too tight. Maybe some pads of some sort too, something to cushion the blows."

"You're really serious, aren't you?" Sam asked, looking the pair over.

"Damn right we are. Now go do what you need to. Stop at whatever armory you have going on, and let's do this before we waste anymore time," Kurt declared.

Sam smiled slyly. "Yes, sir," he said. In a blur he was outside and getting into his vehicle. Normally he would run, but he was tired from his rampage and didn't want to use any more energy than necessary. The drive would give him a chance to recharge before confronting Sebastian for information.

"Since when did you become a warlord?" Blaine asked his boyfriend. Kurt shrugged.

"No idea. Now let's go," Kurt answered. He led the other two outside to their own car so that they could get on with their assignment, unsure of just how long it would take Sam to make his errand. They wanted to be ready for whatever they had just gotten themselves into.

-ooo-

Sam parked his car and turned off the engine. He got out, noticing that Scandals' parking lot was rather empty. He wasn't even sure exactly which day it was, so it may not have been unusual for there to be a slack crowd if it was the middle of the week.

"He isn't dead," came a familiar, almost airy feminine voice. Sam stopped in his tracks, trying to deduce where it was coming from. "He isn't dead," the voice repeated.

"I  _know_  that," the vampire stated, annoyed. As soon as he spoke, his eyes went hazy for a moment. When his vision cleared, he saw standing in front of him, Marley Rose. "Marley?"

"Hello, Sam. It's me, but it's not really me," the beautiful woman said. There was something off about her. She was far too pale, even for a vampire, and she seemed almost translucent with an ethereal glow around her.

"How are you here? I saw you die decades ago. You're gone," the blonde questioned, suddenly wondering about his sanity. Was Rory's abduction causing him to go insane?

Marley smiled softly, her eyes still holding the comforting gaze he had become so accustomed to so long before. "I'm still in your blood, Sam. In your heart. You don't really see me. I'm not really here."

"Then what-?"

"I can't explain it, but I'm the same as a… a ghost I suppose you can say. Non-corporeal, of course. But even then, no, that's not entirely accurate. I'm more like a vision from your own psyche. How I am here is not what matters, though. I can't stay but a moment, but your friends are right. Rory is not dead. He's very much still alive. I promise you that. Have faith, know he is safe for now, but he needs you, Sam. She won't kill him. She needs him. But Sam, that doesn't mean she won't do unspeakable things… You have to hurry and save him," Marley's ghost went on to explain.

Sam felt his eyes tear up again. He had thought more about his past lately than he had in a long time, and if there was one thing he missed as much as his family, it was Marley. Here she was, in front of him, speaking to him. Reassuring him. It didn't seem right. They had been in love, and she was actually encouraging him now to be happy with someone else.

"I see what you're thinking, Sam. I'm gone now. I will always love you, and you me, but Rory is your love now. He is your mate, your partner. I want you to be happy, Sam, and your happiness lies with Rory, with the living. Not with the true dead," the woman said in a mournful tone. Her words were valid, but it didn't mean that even in true death she didn't miss him immensely. "I have to go now, but take solace in knowing that your journey will not be in vain. Rory is alive, and he needs you."

Marley's ghost approached him, their bodies so close they could touch if she were solid. He felt the increased chill in the air as the figure kissed him lightly on the lips. "I love you, Sam. You can do this. I promise you can." She smiled one last time. "Good bye, Sam, my love."

With that, the dead woman began to fade into mist. Luckily for Sam, her body had never been 'in focus' enough for him to see—she had ethereal tears sliding down her cheeks the entire time she spoke, even when she smiled.

"Good bye, Marley. I love you, too. Thank you," the vampire whispered as the mist dissipated. He really did not know if what just happened was real, or if it was some sort of hallucination, but it didn't matter. His vision of his past beloved was more than enough to keep him going. And now, he was going right through the front door and into Scandals to drag Sebastian into this whether he wanted to be part of it or not.

-ooo-

Rory slowly opened his eyes, the dull ache of his broken nose still pulsing, but nowhere near as bad as it had been. The lights were dimmed but not off, and it was quiet except for the light sound of a piano being played in another room. He sat up, a dried washcloth and warm pack of water flopping into his lap. After a moment he recalled Ryder placing something on his face to ease the swelling, hence the cloth and melted icepack.

"Ryder?" he croaked out. His throat was painfully dry, and he was famished. He slid out of the covers and padded to the bathroom. He vaguely remembered that he had been in the bathroom, bleeding like a stuck pig, but now there was no sign of blood anywhere. The bright light stung his eyes for only a moment as he adjusted. He turned on the faucet, cupped his hands, and began to drink greedily.

"You don't have to drink that," the low, deep voice of the incubus said, the man stepping up behind the teenager. "I made you some tea," he added. Rory stood upright, looking into the mirror at Ryder's reflection. The incubus was dressed much more casually—slacks and a polo shirt, all three buttons undone.

"Tea? Thank ye'," Rory said. Before he could turn around, Ryder had wrapped his arms around him from behind, draping a large terry-cloth robe over Rory's lithe frame. "This is…mine?"

Ryder grinned. "Yes. It's yours now. There are a lot of things that are yours now. Miss Berry took away your freedom, but in exchange she has given you a lot of material wealth here. Come on, I'll show you." He took Rory's hand and led him back into the bedroom. Now that he was fully conscious, Rory was able to see just how nice the room actually was. All of the furniture—the bed, tables, chairs, and dressers—were made of hand-crafted woodwork. The fabrics used on the bed and seats were velvet, the curtains thick silk.

"Wow, this is a really nice room," the overwhelmed teen said, looking over things.

"Open the drawers and wardrobes. You'll find clothing there, your size," Ryder instructed. "I took the pleasure of securing some things for you. I hope you like them."

Rory cocked his head and looked at the man. "Ye' went and shopped for all this in just the few hours I was asleep?" He bent back over the dresser drawers he was inspecting, running his fingers across numerous pairs of jeans and slacks, socks and underwear.

"No. I had time. At least I seemed to. Only Miss Berry, Artie, and Kitty know what time really is here. Anyone else is completely unaware, myself included. I think its part of Miss Berry's love of insanity. She wants the disassociation with time to mess with our minds. That's my theory at least. Honestly you could have been asleep for days or hours. After so many years like this, I really have no more sense of what time even is. I wanted you to have an opportunity to heal without pain, and to gather up your strength," the older man replied. "You'll need your strength for…whatever happens next."

"Whate'er happens next?"

Ryder looked down at the floor and frowned. "Yes. See, Miss Rachel plans to…she's ready for some of your…" He couldn't bring himself to say the words even though he knew the task. "You'll need all your strength so you don't get too weak afterward."

"After what?"

The incubus sighed, knowing he had no choice but to tell Rory what was coming for him. "She's anxious to take some of your blood. Sadly, I know she has no intention of using a needle, or fangs, or even a small prick of the finger."

Rory paled. "What  _does_  she intend to use?" His throat was dry again and his heart was pounding louder than the rumbles of hunger in his stomach.

"I can't tell you. I can't because I don't know for sure. I do know that she has some…sadistic tendencies and—I can't say anymore. It makes me sick," Ryder replied, still staring down.

"Then help me. Help me out of here. We can both escape and we can get Sam and me friends to protect ye' too," Rory pleaded. He took Ryder's hand and tugged for his attention. "Come on, help me."

Ryder gulped and closed his eyes, forcing away the moisture forming in the corners of his eyes. "I can't. There is no escape for me from here, and there's no escape for you. You have to trust me on that. The only way you're getting out of here is if this Sam or your friends can break you out. Even then, they would have one hell of a fight on their hands. Artie, Kitty, and others that would stop them."

"Sam won't let any o' that stop him," Rory argued confidently. "He's coming for me, I know it, and when he does, we'll take ye' too. Sam has friends that will help him, then Artie and Kitty and whoe'er else Rachel has in her army won't stand a chance." Rory smiled, but the fear in his eyes told the truth. He was terrified that Sam might come, and might not make it to him. That Sam might be killed, or worse.

-ooo-

Sam walked into Scandals, thankful that Sebastian was not on his throne. It meant the sheriff was most likely in his office, or down in the basement with one of his many 'toys'. One of Sebastian's favorite ways to kill boredom was to seduce a heterosexual fangbanger, take him to the basement, put him up in a sling, and relentlessly penetrate him for hours on end. By the time he was sated, the poor victim would be sore for a week or longer with no idea what happened due to a little glamouring. The only hint the man would have that something was amiss besides the intense ache was that his loins would begin to stir whenever he looked at Sebastian. It was a hobby that disgusted Sam, more because of the deception and abuse of power than the sexual aspect.

The vampire didn't bother to knock on the office door. He simply threw it open, finding both Sebastian and Santana at the desk. Santana was counting cash into a lockbox, ticking off items in a ledger while Sebastian was engrossed in his computer. They both looked up at the intrusion, a mixture of curiosity and annoyance on their faces.

"It's rude to just barge in. What if we were in a state of undress?" Sebastian asked sarcastically.

"Nothing I haven't seen before. We have a problem," Sam announced, skipping the formalities. He stood in front of the desk, looking down at the sheriff.

"Oh, 'we' do, do 'we'? And what might that be?" the older man questioned, raising an eyebrow. He leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head and kicking his feet up on the desktop, more out of disrespect for the younger vampire than for comfort.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, 'we' do. Rory's been taken by that banshee bitch."

All overtones of sarcasm and humor left Sebastian's face immediately, the man dropping his feet from the desk and sitting upright. Santana continued what she was doing, but glanced up at the sudden change in her maker's demeanor.

"That's right. She took him. I don't believe she'll kill him, but when she gets his blood inside of her…" Sam began, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"She'll practically be a god," Sebastian finished for him. "We have to rescue him," he added gravely. "It worries me though. She still has that succubus, and she was pretty challenging to fight. If she has more of those on her side, we might be in for one hell of a battle."

Sam nodded in agreement. "That's why we need to get together everyone we have on our side to help. You two, me, the shifters Mike and Tina. I have a warlock friend as well. Two humans who are friends of Rory's and insist on helping are also coming along. Do you have anyone else you can call in favors from?"

Sebastian scoffed. "Not really. Not for something this important."

"What about The Authority?" the blonde asked hopefully.

The sheriff shook his head. "They won't care. Unless it involves the vampires directly, they won't bat an eye. The life of a leprechaun-human hybrid is the least of their concerns." He stared at the desperate man, genuinely saddened that he had to deliver a negative answer. "Forget it, Sam. The Authority is  _not_ an option."

Sam sighed. "I can count on you two though?"

"Yes," Sebastian said without hesitation. Santana simply rolled her eyes, knowing she didn't really have a choice. If her maker ordered her to help rescue the leprechaun, then she would give it her best, but only out of obligation.

"Good. Now the hard part is finding out where they are," Sam lamented. "Where would a banshee hide out, anyway?"

"Stonehenge," Santana offered cheerfully. "It  _is_  Celtic after all." She still didn't bother looking up from her task as bills flipped through her fingers at a lightning pace.

"Very funny. Stonehenge is all the way overseas," Sam stated. "I doubt she went all the way back there. Besides, it's just a bunch of big rocks."

Sebastian chuckled and sat back again. "She very well may have taken him to Ireland, however. Think about it. The only reason she came here was for the leprechaun. Why would she stay? If you ask me, I'm willing to bet she's in some old castle in Ireland, waiting for his rescuers to come barging in like knights in shining armor."

All three vampires were startled as Sam's cell phone rang. It was Blaine.

"Sam, we recruited Tina and Mike and came back to your house. When we got here, something was waiting for you. A package. I think you need to get back as soon as you can," Blaine said. He didn't wait for a reply before hanging up, simply saying he would see them soon.

"I guess it's off to the Evans Estate we go then," Sebastian smirked.

Santana shoved the money in the lockbox and turned around, locking it in a larger steel safe. Without a word she left the room to inform their employees that she and Sebastian would be out of town for an undetermined period of time. She didn't trust herself to keep quiet this time—she had no tolerance for Sam Evans or his pet leprechaun.

"We'll take our own means of travel. I've been wanting an excuse to drive the Bentley again," Sebastian bragged. Sam rolled his eyes and left, anxious to return home and find out what the mystery package was all about.

-ooo-

"Jeez, Samuel, you really tore this place up," Santana scoffed as she and Sebastian followed the younger vampire into his home. "Good thing you aren't a woman. I would hate to see you on the rag."

"That's disgusting, Santana," Sebastian scolded, wrinkling his nose. The three of them paused in the living room, where the rest of the group was gathered.

"Quick introductions for everyone who doesn't know each other," Sam said as he began to point to each of his associates. "Sebastian, Santana, Mercedes, Kurt, Mike, Tina, Blaine. Now you all know each other and we can get on to business." He then turned his attention to Blaine. "Let's see this mystery package."

Blaine handed Sam a small box about the size of a carton of cereal. On the front of it was Sam's name in fancy script, with the words 'Open Me' underneath. Sam rolled his eyes at the childish order but complied anyway, tearing off the brown paper from the box. He pulled open the flaps and inside he found something very unpleasant.

All three humans plus the two shifters jumped back in horror at the item inside the box. It was a human hand, cauterized at the end, with an envelope attached to it with a ribbon. Sam examined the hand carefully, verifying that it indeed was not his boyfriend's.

"It's not Rory's. It's a woman's hand," Sam announced. A collective sigh of relief filled the room, and then an uneasy silence as the realization that this had been a hand belonging to a human set in. This hand could have belonged to any one of them, and the fact that it wasn't Rory's was a relief, but it was still awful.

The vampire snatched the envelope away, tucking the hand back into the box and setting it on the floor at his feet. He opened the envelope and took out a piece of paper—a letter.

_Vampire,_

_I have your leprechaun. You have no chance of ever recovering him from my home, however you are more than welcome to join him in servitude. I have no intention of killing him, so I'm sure he would love if you came for a visit and kept him company for the eternity I need him to stay here_ _. I promise you that he is in most excellent hands and will remain so. I highly advise you to pledge yourself to me and come to stay with him. If he stays happy, his purpose here will be much better served. I strongly suggest that you not even think for a moment of fighting; his fate is sealed either way. Enclosed in this letter is the address of my home should you care to discuss your servitude. Do not come here looking for confrontation. I will only entertain your pledge of service and nothing more._

_Most Sincerely,_

_Miss Rachel Berry_

Following her name was a golden star-shaped ornament. As mentioned in the letter, her address was written on a separate sheet of paper.

"That's pretentious," Santana commented casually. "She's so full of herself it's disgusting."

"No kidding. Is she so stupid to think you would actually agree to being her slave?" Blaine remarked, looking right at Sam. "You aren't considering that, right?"

Sam looked up and locked eyes with Blaine. "No. I won't be her slave, and neither will he."

"The address is in Ireland. That's gonna be pretty tough getting there with our weapons and stuff," Mercedes pointed out.

"Not necessarily," Sebastian stated. "Arrangements can be made through…'special' transportation services."

The rest of the group stared at him, only Sam and Santana understanding what he was referring to. Sam groaned, already fearing that this was going to be an unpleasant journey to Ireland.

-ooo-

Rachel sat on the luxurious bed in her massive bedroom, her silk nightgown nearly transparent, leaving nothing to the imagination. Kitty was behind her, tending to Rachel's beautiful brown hair with a hairbrush made of fine bristles and a ruby handle.

"Is it wise to trust Ryder Lynn to the care of your new pet, mistress?" Kitty asked casually. "He  _is_  an incubus after all. You know they can be so unpredictable."

Rachel rolled her eyes, but Kitty couldn't see. Kitty was Rachel's right hand woman, the only being that truly understood what she was trying to achieve. The pair were practically lovers, except the banshee had the succubus completely under her control. Being so close, however, Kitty was one of few who could speak so candidly to the powerful songstress.

"To be honest, I  _don't_  entirely trust him. I can tell just by the way he tended to the boy when I backhanded him for…disrespecting me." Rachel couldn't bring herself to actually say what it was Rory had done to spite her. Kitty didn't need to know the humiliating moment when a leprechaun spat in her face.

Kitty grinned mischievously. "I could always keep an eye on him for you. You know mistress, I could easily wrap him under my spell if I could just have a little taste of the boy." She had been itching to get just one tiny drop of the leprechaun's blood, knowing that it would enhance her abilities enough to seduce  _any_  creature she wanted to, and ever since Ryder Lynn had come into the castle, she had wanted him very badly.

"I know what you're up to, Kitty. I suppose I could reward you for helping me capture the little fairy. You did such a good job even if you took a few unfortunate blows," the banshee said wistfully. "Yes, I think you deserve just a tiny little taste of what the young boy has to offer."

The succubus' eyes glowed a bright teal, her excitement suddenly lighting up. "You don't know just how much that means to me," she said, leaning around and kissing Rachel lightly on the cheek.

Rachel grinned as her protégé continued to brush her hair. "You can play with them both, if you want, but the leprechaun is not to be incapacitated. You know how important he is. Have fun with him, toy with him, but I want him in good condition for his first bleeding."

Kitty's lips turned into a wide smile, her eyes still glowing with pleasure. She knew just what she was going to do, and it was going to be delightful.

-ooo-

Kitty didn't bother to knock on the door to Rory's room. She glided right inside, the door shutting behind her. "Hello, Ryder," she cooed with her sexiest smile. She had changed from her nightgown into something much more alluring. A tight-fitting pleated skirt, a see-through top, and little else. Her hair hung free around her, freshly curled.

"What is it, Kitty? Does Mistress Rachel know you're here? She gave strict orders to keep the boy sequestered from everyone but me until he was called for," Ryder asked, annoyed.

"It just so happens that she does. She decided I deserve a little reward for helping snag the fae. Five drops of his blood from the sweetest artery on his body," she informed him. Rory had yet to be aware of her presence. He was sitting in the adjoining room, listening to some classical music Ryder had brought to him and reading an old novel from the bookcase.

"No! You can't be serious!" Ryder objected, standing from his seat. "I won't let you hurt him!"

Kitty put her finger directly in the middle of his chest and locked eyes with him. "You don't have a choice. If I go back and tell the mistress you interfered with my reward, you know exactly what will happen. I don't have to tell you how horrible it would be, for you  _and_  the boy."

Ryder's shoulders slumped, a look of pure despair on his face. The succubus was right—if he interfered, both he and Rory would be punished severely.

Satisfied with her intimidation, Kitty turned and strolled into the next room where Rory was sitting in an oversized chair. She stood in front of him and smiled sweetly, waving her hand at him. "Hi there," she said cutely.

Rory immediately stood up and backed away from her. He raised his hands, his fists already feeling hot and glowing slightly. "Get away from me!"

"Oh calm down, I won't hurt you. Much," the woman replied, arching her eyebrow. "You see, the mistress rewards those who succeed for her, and I have been promised five drops of blood from your sweetest artery."

"What the hell are ye' talking about?" Rory asked, not backing down at all. He was hesitant to actually fight with the woman—she was much stronger than he was, and incredibly fast. "Ye' didn't succeed in anything! Ye' got ye'r arse kicked and she had to come get me herself. What 'ave ye' done to deserve anything at all?"

Kitty sighed. "Ryder!" she called out. "Would you come in here and…oh,  _make_  him cooperate? If I do it, I might just make something unpleasant happen." She had no intention of acknowledging that the boy had a very valid point. Kitty knew the only reason Rachel had really rewarded her was because of their close relationship. She also knew that the relationship was mostly in her own head, that Rachel's emotions for her were merely out of self-interest.

Ryder quickly appeared behind the bewildered teenager, his strong hands on the boy's biceps. "Put your arms down, Rory. There's no point trying to fight her," he said sadly. "I'm sorry, but the sooner we get this over with, the better. I'll be right here with you, I promise."

"But…What's going on? What's she going to do?" Rory asked, turning to face Ryder, fear in his bright blue eyes. "What's she gonna do to me?"

Ryder hung his head, refusing to look his charge in the eyes. "She's going to take a tiny bit of your blood. From your groin."

"What!?" Rory shouted. "No! If she wants it so bad why can't she take it from somewhere else, like me arm?"

"She was promised the sweetest artery, and that happens to be in the inner thigh, where the groin muscles are. It's going to be unpleasant, but the sooner we get it over with, the sooner you can forget about it and she'll leave. I swear, I will be right here with you."

Rory sighed, feeling defeated. "That's all she's going to do, right? Nothing else?"

"Oh quit worrying already and get your pants off," Kitty chimed in. "I'll make it quick just so I don't have to listen to your whining." She then let out a chuckle that sent shivers down both male's spines. "Oh and Ryder, you won't be using your so called charms on him to make this easy for him. I want him to scream for me. I want him to beg me to stop."

Ryder reluctantly led Rory back to the bedroom, motioning for him to lay back at the end of the bed, his legs hanging over the side. The incubus gently removed the teen's pants and underwear then sat beside him.

"I'll hold your hand, alright? When it hurts, just squeeze," Ryder instructed. Rory slowly nodded, feeling humiliated being on display for the succubus; a creature well known for her seductive abilities who had very well seen numerous men with much better bodies than his.

Kitty sauntered into the room, surveying her prey. She reached behind her and pulled out a small knife, the blade shining in the light. With a smile, she knelt down between the boy's widely parted legs, caressing his thighs and brushing against his crotch until he achieved an involuntary erection.

"Very nice, leprechaun. Your vampire must have been very satisfied," she complimented, admiring his stiff organ. Her eyes then turned to his inner thigh as she brought the small blade down, grazing his skin. "This is going to hurt. A lot," she warned, grinning.

Rory felt like his entire lower body was on fire as the knife pierced his flesh. It didn't go deep—Kitty was only allowed a very tiny bit—but the sensation of pain was still the same. Tears slid down from his eyes as he squeezed Ryder's hand with strength he didn't even know he had. After a moment, he felt the blade retreat, replaced by Kitty's soft lips. He felt her cool hand wrapping around his penis, agonizingly slowly stroking him up and down. He felt like his body was betraying him, allowing him to feel pleasure at this demon's touch.

Moaning in pleasure, Kitty finally pulled back, licking the wound, which quickly closed up as she ran her finger across the parted flesh. She stood, releasing her grip on the teen's pulsing dick and staring at him, then up at Ryder.

"That was amazing," the woman declared, licking her lips. She felt her body warm as the liquid drained down her throat and into her core. It was like every single nerve in her flesh was tingling with power. "And now, boys, I get to have a little fun with you."

"What are you talking about? You said you were here for blood, and now you got it. What else do you want?" Ryder demanded, still holding the teen's hand. He could feel a pulsing heat that was quickly fading away from the young man's grip.

Kitty grinned, approaching the incubus and tracing her finger along his collarbone. "You, of course. I've wanted you for ages, Ryder. That muscular body, that adorable face. That very large cock. I've seen it. I know how it looks engorged, and I hunger for it, but you have denied me all these years. Now that I've had his blood, I am strong enough to seduce even you."

Ryder stood up, letting go of Rory's hand. "You wouldn't dare! I will  _never_  succumb to you. I would rather die," he seethed.

Annoyed, Kitty looked down at the pained boy. His face was still red from his tears, his nose still swollen, and his eyes still blackened. She then looked up at Ryder, into his pretty eyes on his boyish face. Her eyes began to glow a faint red.

"No!" Ryder yelled, but it was all for naught. He already felt his body losing control as Kitty worked her magic on him. He tore his clothes off in a few swift motions, leaving himself standing there before her, nude and aroused.

"There's that massive cock I have been waiting for," Kitty said, licking her lips. There were already beads of precum dripping from the slit. As soon as her eyes stopped glowing, Ryder's gaze shifted down at his hurt friend, lying vulnerable on the bed.

Kitty was furious as she watched him stare at the boy, but she maintained composure. "You're in love with him, aren't you?" she asked coyly. Ryder nodded slightly.

"He's kind, even in unfortunate circumstances. He's a purity  _you_  will never understand."

Kitty huffed. "You have it bad for him. I haven't seen you this bad since…" she trailed off, deciding not to voice whatever memory she was thinking of. "Well, I guess there's only one thing to do. You need to consummate the relationship. Show him your love," she said, placing her fingertip under his chin and staring into his eyes again. "Show him your love, Ryder. Take him for yours, and show him your love."

"No!" Ryder shouted again. "I refuse! I will never do that to him!"

Kitty's eyes glowed again as she stared at Ryder. "Oh my dear, you don't have a choice. I easily stripped you. I can just as easily force you into him. You're so in love with the boy, your body aches for him, doesn't it?" she taunted. "You want to feel him writhe beneath you in pleasure and pain as you make him yours. It's in your nature. It's what you do, Ryder. Stop being afraid of it."

Again, Ryder felt his body become helpless, losing control. He tried to fight it, but it was useless. Kitty's magic was strong, and it was working on him. She continued to taunt him with encouraging words, urging the incubus to make Rory his own. The weakened boy was still on the bed, hurting, confused, dizzy and afraid. It had only been five drops of blood, but there was something in Kitty's very being that seemed to paralyze him, much like Ryder's numbing spell.

"Kitty, please, stop this," Ryder pleaded. "This isn't right and you know it!"

Kitty smiled and glanced over at the human lying on the bed. "He looks so much like him, doesn't he?"

Ryder's face paled a sickening white. "Don't… this is beyond cruel, Kitty. Don't do this, I'm begging you."

Instead of arguing, the succubus' eyes glowed brighter, and Ryder felt his body lose complete control. He felt something unnatural creeping into him, every nerve in his body igniting with lust until it was painful.

"Go on, do it. You know how bad you want it. It'll be so easy. Just slide into him, fill him. Fill him with your demonic seed," Kitty went on. "Take him. It's your nature, don't deny it," she cooed. "It's been too long for you, hasn't it? He looks just like _him._ Maybe he's a reincarnation. Maybe he's just temptation. Maybe he's here just to fulfill your needs. Whatever it is,  _take_ him. Now," she ordered.

Ryder approached Rory in a trance-like state. Never before had he felt so powerless as his hands hitched the boy's legs up onto his shoulders, exposing the innocent orifice to his massive erection. "I'm so sorry, Rory. Forgive me."

Rory didn't have the strength to protest. Kitty's spell was so strong that it was immobilizing, and his leg felt numb and useless from her injury against him. His erection had subsided, but he was left incredibly weakened. She had done something else to him besides cut him, but what it was he had no idea. He tried to summon forth his light, but all that happened were pale yellow crackles from his fingertips.  _I'm going to die. He's going to… Oh God, why can't I move? Why can't I make me power happen? I need it or else this is going to.. Ryder is going to… he's gonna rape me…_  He felt himself being manipulated into a vulnerable position with the aid of rough, strong hands. He felt his shirt being torn from his body, leaving him naked. He felt a large, muscular body in front of him, spreading his legs apart before something wet was spread on his rear. It was the dripping head of his caretaker's massive cock preparing to enter. He knew what was coming, and he was afraid but powerless to stop it.  _Please make this stop. God please help me! Sam, come get me! Me body is for Sam, no one else. I can't let this…_

He screamed in agony as his ass lit on fire at the pain of something large entering him, roughly penetrating, sliding in and out, slamming into him over and over. It was nothing like what Sam had done with him. Sam was gentle, loving, tender. Sam made him feel special and aroused. This was entirely alien to him. He was being violated, tortured against his will by an unnaturally sized penis belonging to a monster.

He cried tears of terror and pain, called out for help until a hand clasped over his mouth. He heard loud, feminine laughter and equally loud, masculine grunting with every thrust. He felt his insides suddenly flooding with burning hot liquid, the manly groaning becoming louder still as his assailant achieved orgasm. Their eyes locked for the first time since it began and what he saw in Ryder's eyes was terrifying. No longer did he see the kind man that had befriended him. Instead, he saw pure lust, fueled by primal instincts of desire.

Ryder was locked in a state of passion, or what his body believed was passion. Kitty's magic was tearing his mind to pieces. At first he felt like dying, anything to end the ordeal. Once he had inserted himself, however, everything changed. His mind suddenly turned him into a sexual beast with one purpose: to fuck at any cost.

The closer the incubus came to orgasm, the more intensely the evil in his brain became. He was turned on all the more by the weak, writhing body beneath him. His cock grew harder still as he watched the boy's tears flow freely. He was being controlled by animalistic cruelty. The more pain he caused his charge, the harder he pounded. When Rory finally gave up struggling, Ryder cried out in pleasure, filling the teen up with hot cum until it overflowed, dripping out of his damaged hole as he pulled out.

Time passed but Rory knew not how much. It could have been simply minutes or hours or more. He was in so much pain that he couldn't comprehend anything except the hurt. He didn't know which hurt worse—the raping dick, or the feeling of betrayal from his friend. His head was swimming with so many emotions he thought his brain might explode. It was then that he passed out, but the torment was not over. Ryder went on to have two more ruthless orgasms that Rory would not know about even once he woke again in Ryder's arms.

 


	11. Season 1, Episode 11: War - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Author's Notes: It's June 10th as I work on this revision and I am just insanely excited! Sunday is the new season of True Blood and the release of this story! Of course by the time you are actually reading these notes it will be like mid-September and True Blood will have ended. :p_  
>  ****  
> Beta Credit: TVTime

**Season 1, Episode 11: War, Part 1**

"Is this everything?" Blaine asked, looking in the back of the large black van parked in Sam's driveway. Inside were several different types of weapons, protective armor, and various other 'adventure gear.' The driver of the van looked bored, playing a game on his cell phone and yawning.

"Yes. This is everything. What about you? Do you have everything you need to work spells and magic? I don't really know a lot about that stuff to be honest," Sam replied, staring into Blaine's eyes. While Mercedes and Kurt and even Mike  _usually_ refused to look the vampire directly in the eyes, neither Blaine nor Tina showed any signs of fear.

"Pretty much, yes. Most of it can be done with incantations, mental projection, that sort of thing. As far as actual items I may need, I have a limited supply but can manage just fine."

Sam admired the teen's willingness to help his friend. Out of everyone he had met through Rory, Blaine was the one he trusted most. Blaine was calm, rational, and insightful. His mind was open and judgment just wasn't there. He liked Tina, but shifters had an unspoken alliance with one another and if it came down to it, he feared that Tina would side with Mike if necessary. Blaine on the other hand seemed fully capable of making decisions that may not agree with Kurt, but would hold to his convictions.

"Sebastian and Santana are meeting us at the airport. They'll have the coffins, and the rest of the equipment. Maybe some more muscle if we're lucky," Sam said. He gave Blaine a pained smile, wanting desperately to show his appreciation despite how he felt at the moment.

Kurt and Mercedes were discussing something as they sat in a second black van, Mike and Tina standing in the open vehicle door, speaking only through their eyes. As Sam regarded them, he decided it might be best for 'team morale' to make some sort of speech. Blaine followed him over to the van, crawling inside to squeeze between his boyfriend and Mercedes.

Sam stood before them, Kurt, Blaine, and Mercedes all shifting in their seats to give him their attention, Mike and Tina already paying consideration to him. "I just wanted to formally thank you all. I know you aren't doing this for me; you're doing it for Rory, but thank you. You're risking your lives for your friend, and it's something that isn't often seen in my world. For vampires it's generally every man or woman for themselves. Even after only a hundred and fifty-three years I forget how different it is for humans. Rory is lucky to have each and every one of you on his side," Sam announced, swallowing back his emotions.

"Don't forget it. We're in this for him. Not for you, ever," Kurt stated flatly. Blaine gave him a reproachful glare, silencing the boy. Sam merely hung his head, hurt by the teen's harsh words. If only Rory's friends would see that he had the best of intentions.

"We better get a move on," Sam said, eager to get away for just a few minutes. The stern and angry stares from Kurt and hard expression from Mercedes were like knives scraping his flesh. Even Mike had a disapproving look on his face.

Everyone except Sam finished piling into the second van, pulling the door closed. Sam took the passenger side of the first van, staring out of the window while the driver prepared to leave.

-ooo-

Sebastian leaned up against his Bentley, Santana standing beside him, filing her nails in the typical 'annoyed and bored female sidekick' stance. She didn't even look up when the other two vehicles pulled into the bright white hangar.

Sam stepped out of one of the black vans and immediately approached Sebastian. "Everything ready?" he asked.

The sheriff smirked. "No hello? No 'how are you tonight Sebastian?' or even a 'thank you, Sebastian?'" Normally Sam would have scoffed and sarcastically come back with something, but this time he truly was in the man's debt.

"Sorry. Thank you, Sebastian. Santana. Both of you," the blonde replied dejectedly. "My crew is ready if yours is."

"Of course my team is ready. Everything is already on the plane, including coffins and nutrition for your humans," the sheriff said proudly. "Speaking of, where are they?"

As if on cue, the rest of the group emerged from their vehicle. Sebastian glanced across the entire group, a sly smile on his face. "Let's see, three humans, two shifters, and a vampire. What a motley crew."

Santana chuckled, standing up straight and then heading toward the stairwell leading inside the aircraft.

"After you, friends," Sebastian said, motioning to the humans and shifters. His sarcastic emphasis on the word 'friends' was unsettling, even to Blaine and Tina. The only thing keeping any of them from bailing was the fact that it would lessen Rory's chances for survival the fewer people they had.

Kurt reluctantly followed Blaine up the steps, never letting go of his hand as they disappeared inside. Mercedes refused to even look in Sebastian's direction, and the two shifters merely gave him courteous nods as they boarded. Finally, Sam marched up inside, followed by Sebastian. The ladder was rolled back and the door to the airplane was closed, sealing them all inside a rather ornate aircraft.

"Make yourselves at home. We'll leave as soon as the cargo hold is loaded with your additional items. Once we're in the air, feel free to partake of our food and drinks. Human food and drinks, of course," Sebastian announced to his guests. "The trip should take close to nine hours depending on the winds, so I encourage you all to use the time to rest. We have-"

"Yes, we know, a huge battle ahead of us, blah blah blah," Kurt barked.

Sebastian cocked his head and looked at the human, his face blank. "Hmm. How rude. As I was saying, we have a very tedious altercation ahead of us. Be prepared." With that, he strolled to the back of the cabin and joined Santana on a love seat, the still-annoyed vampiress filing down her nails for theatric effect.

Sam sat alone in an oversized chair, his features reflecting only worry and fear. The next several hours were going to be painfully slow. He closed his eyes and leaned his elbows on his knees, head in hands. He wished Marley were still around. Granted, if Marley were there, however, he most likely would not be in this situation at all. In fact he would never even have met Rory let alone fallen for him, which was far from what he wanted. If only Marley could somehow be there with him, now, when he needed someone's support, it would have helped immensely. The hallucination, or vision, or whatever it had been, in which Marley had appeared to him had given him a sense of peace regarding his relationship at least. What he could really use was her tender touch on his cool flesh to hold his hand and tell him everything would be all right, and that Rory would soon be back in his arms.

-ooo-

Ryder glared at Kitty as she stood over him, gloating in her victory. His body was exhausted and his mind was shredded from the succubus' mental spells. After being forced to ravage the teen on his bed, Kitty had forced Ryder to pleasure her for many more hours, or so it seemed. Kitty knew how long, of course, but not Ryder. To him, it had seemed like an eternity of agony while to her it was finally what she had been craving ever since they met.

"You're so weak, Ryder. A pathetic incubus if I ever saw one. You had to have help from a succubus to get what you wanted because you couldn't do it yourself," the woman cackled. "I bet you couldn't even have kept your dick hard if it wasn't for my magic. As it is, even  _I_ will be sore for a while. Every squeeze of my thighs will bring forth the magnificent memories of this evening," she added casually, examining her fingernails as if she had no cares in the world.

"Get. Out," Ryder hissed between clenched teeth. It was all he could do not to leap up and attack the woman, but he knew full well that in her enhanced state, and his weakened body, she would break him in half without even batting an eyelash.

"It's been a pleasure, boys, but I have things to attend to now," Kitty said, then smirked and turned on her heel, her hair and dress flowing behind her as she sauntered out of the room. Nobody would be able to tell she had just participated in an almost violent round of lustful sex; her appearance was just as flawless as when she first entered the room. Ryder mustered enough energy to get up and slam the door behind her, cursing in several languages mixed together.

Ryder crawled into the bed with his young friend, well aware of what had happened. Kitty had used her ability on him to control him, and he had brutally raped the boy he had quickly fallen in love with. From what his mind could recall, he had raped the boy not once but three times. He took him until the teen passed out from fear and pain. It didn't help Ryder's guilt knowing that not only had he done that, but he had also allowed Kitty to cut the boy and steal some of his blood, which had given her the power to control the incubus in the first place.

The man lay next to Rory, pulling him into his arms. He hoped the boy wouldn't wake up just yet because he knew Rory would be furious, hurt, scared. He would reject Ryder with hatred and disgust. That was an event Ryder knew was coming but wanted so badly to put off. Right then he merely wanted to comfort the boy, hold him and keep him safe.  _Bang up job you've done of that so far, Ryder. Great fucking job. I'm supposed to be watching over him, keeping him away from harm until that banshee cunt needs him, and instead I let myself be overpowered by that cackling bitch on a power high. Now look what I've done…_

Ryder rocked back and forth with Rory in his arms, a grown incubus sobbing uncontrollably for a human, repeating like a mantra, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Forgive me, I'm sorry." Kitty had been right; as an incubus he was indeed pathetic. It was not in the nature of his kind to fall in love. Incubi and succubi existed for one purpose, and that was for sexual pleasure and thrill. Rape from an incubus or succubus nearly always resulted in a very unpleasant end, not necessarily in death, but with a dramatically weakened body that could easily be classified as catatonic. Over the decades, Ryder had seduced and even raped many humans, male and female. Only once had he felt the way he felt for Rory. He felt remorse at times, pity even, for his victims, but his nature always won out, except with Rory and… a boy that Ryder refused to think about at the moment. Kitty was right. He was a failure as an incubus, and she would never let him forget it.

Hours later, when Rory finally regained consciousness, he quickly wished to pass out again. He felt agonizing pain in his rear, his entire ass on fire in a way he had never before experienced. His insides felt pummeled and his head was swimming. He was weak; he could feel it all over. He felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his inner thigh, and he remembered that had been done by a blade, by Kitty. The rest was hazy, but he did recall being roughly undressed, mounted, and penetrated by an oversized erection. He recalled begging for the man inside of him to stop, screaming in pain and agony, but it all fell on deaf ears. He remembered the final merciless thrusts inside of him and the warmth that spread as he was filled with seed. He knew he had passed out at that point, and was scared to even wonder what had happened after. Judging by the still-excessive pain in his butt, he was willing to assume at least one more rigorous sexual session, but he wouldn't be sure until Ryder woke up.

_Ryder. Why is Ryder holding me? It was him. It was him who did this to me. I trusted him, and he… he did this to me. He said we were friends, and he would protect me. He lied. He lied and he raped me, without any compassion or mercy. He meant to hurt me. He meant it to be painful for me. But if that's the case, why is he holding me? Rapists don't hold their victims. I wonder if he … maybe he feels bad. Oh well, feels bad or not, I can't forgive him for this._ The look he had seen in Ryder's eyes reappeared in his mind between torrents of thoughts. The dark, lustful eyes that were filled with barbaric sexual desire. He began to shudder and tears began to flow.  _How can I ever look at him the same? Kitty was doing something to him, but could she make him do_ that? _I thought incubi were supposed to be powerful, like Kitty is, but he's just as weak as a human if she can control him that way. Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck! Fuck all of this! I want to go home! I want to go back to Sam's now!_

"Rory…" Ryder croaked as he rejoined the boy in wakefulness. The teen shoved him off angrily, his rage suddenly taking over. Ryder could feel the stinging sensation where Rory had shoved him. The teen had already begun to charge up his power, to attack or defend, either way Rory was aggressive and ready to take care of his so called friend.

"Get away from me!" Rory shouted, leaping off the bed. He wasn't fazed by his own nudity; his anger was too strong to worry about such things as clothes. Instead he stared down at the incubus, still on one side of the bed.

"Please, let me explain! I'm sorry; you will never know how sorry I am, but let me explain!" Ryder pleaded, getting out of bed and putting his hands before himself in surrender. "I swear, you don't know what her power was like! I had no control over myself!"

Rory climbed out of bed, standing in front of Ryder, both of them nude except for streaks of blood around Ryder's groin and Rory's backside. He approached Ryder, locking eyes with him, a look of pure rage and hatred boring into the incubus.

"Answer this question, and I advise ye' to answer carefully," Rory growled. "Did. Ye'. Rape. Me?" He knew the answer but he wanted to hear the incubus say the words.

Ryder hung his head, sniffling as tears began to flow down his cheeks. He fell to his knees in front of the teen, reaching for the boy's hands and grasping them. "Please… I had no choice, I-"

Rory yanked his hands out of Ryder's grip and placed them on the man's shoulders. The heat quickly rose as he sent a surge of power through his hands, the flash bright and fast. Ryder instantly sailed backward, crashing forcefully into the wardrobe. He fell forward on his hands and knees, his back scratched up from broken wood planks of the wooden closet.

Before the man had time to recover, Rory was upon him, crouching down and gripping the man's neck. His hand was still warm, his grasp stronger than Ryder would have expected from a human. He let himself be guided onto his feet as Rory's eyes continued to dig into his own. "How dare ye'? I trusted ye', and ye' took advantage of me. I promised to break ye' out o' here with me, and this is how ye' treat me? What's wrong with ye'? What warped sense of justice and humanity do ye' 'ave? I thought ye' were supposed to be powerful too! Did ye' not want to resist? Did ye' want to go through with it?"

Ryder clawed at his throat, prying the teen's fingers away. He coughed several times, trying to catch his breath and reorient himself. "Listen to me!" Ryder bellowed, no longer in a state of submission. "I told you, I had no choice! When Kitty drank your blood, it magnified her powers on a grand scale, and she was able to work her succubi magic no matter how hard I tried to resist!" Now it was his eyes that were boring into Rory's. He put his hands around the boy's biceps and squeezed. "Now look at me. Know I am not lying to you. Think about it. I've been nice to you since you got here. I don't have to be, I choose to be. I went against my incubi nature and refused to seduce you. Do you think that was easy? Do you think I  _had_  to do that? Did you know that Rachel gave me permission to fuck you anytime I wanted, but I declined? Now  _stop_  assaulting me and realize I'm speaking the truth!"

Rory was taken aback by the sudden change in Ryder's demeanor. He was taller than Ryder, but the man was stronger and still intimidating. Ryder's words began to resonate in his head. Leprechaun blood was indeed supposed to be a power enhancer, as even Rachel herself explained. He could only assume it worked on Kitty, and if Ryder was telling the truth, then maybe he really couldn't stop himself.

_Think, Rory, think! He's crying. He's got a good point. He doesn't have to be nice, but he is. Does that make it easier for him to be controlled? She was being pretty cruel, taunting him and stuff. I don't really know anything about all of this. Incubus, succubus, banshee. What are these things anyway? Something tells me that whatever they are, it isn't natural for an incubus to be crying, and he is._ Rory closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. He knew just how to find out the truth, the question was whether or not it would actually work on an incubus.

Utilizing the skin-to-skin contact of Ryder's grip, Rory was able to draw out the images in the man's head from the night before. It took a lot more concentration and effort than when he read a human; it was an act he had to force to occur even though they had made skin contact many times before. He pulled out the image of Ryder comforting him, holding onto him while Kitty cut him. The image of Ryder's argument with Kitty was very clear, but the memories of the actual rape were fuzzy. Rory assumed it had to be because of the succubus' influence, that somehow it warped memories and emotions, but he saw what he needed to. He saw Ryder refusing, and he saw Kitty work her spell. He saw it all through Ryder's eyes and it was then that he was able to begin to absolve the man of his guilt.

As the realizations hit, Rory's eyes began to water. It was easier to blame Ryder for the transgression, but knowing of his innocence complicated things. He still felt hurt and betrayed even though he knew Ryder had been under a spell. It would be difficult to forgive the man, and even more difficult to forget the incident. He may have been disoriented, but the rape itself was agonizingly vivid.

Ryder released Rory's arms and pulled him in for a tight hug as the pair of them sobbed. "I'm sorry, Rory. I'm so, so sorry. I would give up my life to take it back. Anything to take it back."

Rory said nothing as they both continued to cry in frustration, anger, fear, confusion. After several minutes they parted, the teen sitting on the side of the bed with a strong grimace. The look on the boy's face sent sharp pains through Ryder's body as all could think about was how badly his manhood had torn the boy up inside.

"Will you let me tend to you?" Ryder asked quietly. "You're hurt. I can speed the healing, and reduce the pain. I can't make your mind heal but please, let me try to make it right with your physical pain."

The leprechaun nodded, suddenly feeling very embarrassed about being nude with a bloody backside in front of this man.

"We should wash off first, to rid ourselves of the blood. I will shower with you, but only to make sure I get you clean. I won't hurt you, I promise," Ryder assured him. Rory didn't reply but instead followed the man into the bathroom. Ryder adjusted the hot water to a reasonable temperature and allowed Rory to enter first.

"Damn!" Rory cried out as the piping hot liquid flowed over him. His eyes teared up as the water traveled between his cheeks and invaded his abused orifice.

Ryder stood behind the teen with a cloth, gently washing his body. "I'm sorry. So, so, sorry," he repeated, the sounds of the teen's discomfort stabbing him like a knife. The boy's body was incredibly arousing, but the situation prevented Ryder from developing an erection. Instead he was able to function just fine, carefully parting the firm globes and with great care, ridding him of blood.

"I'm sorry! I know it hurts, but I have to make sure you're good and clean for the salve to work. Just a minute more," the incubus said.

"Just hurry, please. It feels like… like someone put me arse in a blender and ye'r pouring acid on it…"

The imagery would have made both males laugh in any other situation, but right now it was anything but humorous. Ryder stayed silent as he finished his task, then went about finishing the rest of their shower.

Once they had dried off, at Ryder's instruction Rory lay on the bed on his stomach, placing his head on a pillow and forcing himself to relax. That was easier said than done as Rory felt the man's fingers, slick with a salve, pressing between his cheeks. When Ryder carefully inserted his coated finger, Rory thought he might scream in agony, but within seconds the cream soothed his torn hindquarters.

"I'm sorry; I know that was painful. It will be awhile before you can have receptive sex again. If you try, the pain will be great, blood will return, and things will just end up a big debacle. You would be wise to wait a couple of weeks until the swelling goes down and you've had time to acclimate," Ryder explained. "When Sam arrives to rescue you, I will tell him myself about all this, and let him decide what to do with me. If he throws me back in prison or servitude, it is only fair for what I did. He deserves to hear my confession from me, not from anyone else."

"Ryder… ye' know that when Sam finds out, he'll kill ye'. I 'ave no doubts; Sam will kill ye'. More importantly,  _I_  want to tell him, when I'm ready. I can't do it yet; it's too fresh. I want him to think clearly because in all honesty, ye'r good at heart, and to lose someone else, especially a friend, would be the worst pain I could suffer. I've lost enough already."

"If he did kill me, it would be because I deserve it. What I did… it's inexcusable. Even under a spell, the deed is done, and I am responsible for the action." Ryder hung his head, fighting back more tears. "I know it seems weird that I even care about Sam and his reaction. I don't even know him, but he's important to you and…" he trailed off, preferring not to finish the conversation. "How does—uh how do you feel now?" he asked, referring to Rory's tender opening.

Rory winced slightly before answering. "It still hurts. Like a bruise that has constant pressure on it, and some burning pain. It feels like I was gutted out of me arse," he replied. He knew his description was overly graphic, but he couldn't help but lay on a little guilt.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry. You know, if it would tear me up the same way, I would let you rape me until I cried in agony, and than some. Anything if it would make it better. I would let you do whatever you wanted to dish out in retaliation and I wouldn't fight it," the incubus declared. "I wouldn't even fault you if you wanted to kill me yourself."

"Shut up with all that talk, Ryder. I'm angry at ye', but I don't want ye' dead. I'm not that kind o' person. I don't want to hurt  _anyone_. I don't get off on causing people pain and suffering. I don't want to rape anyone, or beat them or anything. I don't even want to fight Rachel or Kitty, but I don't 'ave much choice. So just shut up with that talk," Rory scolded him, his eyes harsh. "Besides, I saw in ye'r head. It was Kitty that made ye' do it. If I want to kill anyone, it's her."

Ryder couldn't help but crack a smile. "You're a good person, Rory Flanagan. There are no better words. You're just a good person with the biggest heart I ever saw, and I've seen a lot of hearts. Literally and figuratively," he confessed.

"That's really gross. Seeing real hearts and stuff."

Ryder chuckled. "It's not the most pleasant thing but it comes with the territory," he said. They were quiet for a few more minutes as Ryder applied some more of the salve to the teen's butt, concentrating to keep from having an erection at the intimate touch. When he was finished, he made a simple request of the teen. "Can I hug you?"

"O' course," Rory replied, confused as to why it was even a question. He rolled over onto his side and sat up on his elbow as Ryder leaned in, wrapping his arms around the boy. Several more tears fell from Ryder's eyes and streaked his cheeks.

"Can I hold you? I know it sounds weird since you have Sam and all, but… after everything I did to you, I want to feel like I can protect you again. I promise it won't be sexual. Just friends, looking out for each other." The incubus asked.

Rory thought a moment, more concerned with the intimacy than worrying about sexual contact. Ryder was genuinely sorry and he could tell, especially after having seen his memories of the night before. He finally consented, the incubus sliding into the bed next to him, pulling him into his arms. It was strange at first, feeling the man's bare chest against his back, feeling Ryder's genitals brush against his sore ass, but never did Ryder get an erection nor make any move to do something sexual. He merely held onto Rory for dear life.

-ooo-

Sam stared at the television screen, the picture not really registering in his head. All he could focus on was his plan to rescue his boyfriend. He sat alone, nobody wanting to sit with him as they flew to Ireland on the airplane commissioned by the Vampire International Transportation Association, or VITA. They specialized in air travel for vampires, the bodies of the planes containing no windows whatsoever. Fiberglass coffins lined one side of the plane, while the other side had several rows of seats large enough to put first class seats on regular airlines to shame. The plane was spacious, not containing anywhere near the amount of seats as a typical aircraft due to the much smaller passenger manifests.

Blaine came up to Sam and sat down next to him. "We're going to get him out of there. We've all got your back. We're ready for this," he assured the vampire.

"I know. That's what bothers me. All of you, risking your lives. Because of me, and because of the banshee."

"How is any of this your fault, Sam? The banshee would have come regardless of whether or not you were around. At least with you, he has a chance," Blaine said. "I mean, look at you. You're a kick-ass vampire, with two other vampire friends, not to mention a powerful warlock, two shifters, and two very pissed off humans with weapons. Do you think he would have all of this on his side if it wasn't for you? No, so stop blaming yourself and get your head in the game. There's no half-assing this."

Sam let the corner of his mouth turn up in a smile. "Thank you," he said softly. "That makes me feel a little better. I just don't want anybody getting hurt."

Blaine's face was filled with resolve. "We all know the stakes and the risks. We're prepared to do what we have to do." His eyes bored into Sam's, insisting Sam trust his judgment. "Maybe you should get some rest. You're gonna need all your strength."

"You're right," the blonde replied. "We should all get some rest. We still have several hours yet." Sam stood up, stepping past the warlock and heading to one of the coffins. He paused and turned to Blaine. "Thanks again. I think that pep talk was just when I needed."

"No problem," Blaine replied with a smile. "Besides, none of us are doing this for  _you._ We're doing it for Rory, so there's no way you can feel guilty."

Sam smiled back and lifted the lid of a coffin. He climbed in and pulled the lid closed from the inside. Within seconds he was fast asleep.

-ooo-

Kitty stood before the large mirror in her bedroom, admiring her own beauty. She could still feel the leprechaun's blood coursing through her body and it was having interesting effects on her. Kitty's eyes were brighter, more alluring with an aura of danger. Her lips were perfectly moistened, shining in the dim light of the room. Her skin took on a more porcelain look, not a single imperfection any longer visible.

She wore a translucent red gown exposing her flesh despite the covering Her long color-streaked blonde hair hung loosely around her figure in large curls. She was so busy admiring her new physical touches that she didn't notice she had a visitor until she turned around, intending to gaze at her firm rear end in the reflective surface.

"Oh, hello Ryder. Come to thank me again?" she cooed, her phony smile pasted across her face. The incubus stared at her, his eyes cold and hard, his face otherwise expressionless. "You seem a little upset."

In a flash, Ryder rushed the woman, his hand grasping her neck as he shoved her backward into the mirror. It shattered, the pieces falling to the floor, but Kitty didn't seem to notice.

The woman mewled as she reached up to unclench Ryder's fingers from her throat. No longer in his grip, she stood on her own two feet again, unbothered by the shards of reflective glass under her soles. "Nice try, sweetie. You know there is no way in hell that you can take me. Not even before the blood, and surely not after."

"You better leave him alone. Never touch him again," Ryder hissed. "He's too good for your touch."

Kitty rolled her eyes. "You're delusional. You annoy me, and if you piss me off, I may just kill you. You  _do_  know that the mistress has given me that power, right?"

"What? You're not serious!" Ryder exclaimed in surprise.

"Oh yes," the succubus said, smiling. She slowly approached him, tracing her fingertip along his chiseled chest, visible under his open shirt. "I believe her orders were to exterminate any detriment to the well being of the leprechaun or its longevity."

"Rory is  _not_  an 'it'! He's a person," Ryder insisted. "And aside from the atrocity you forced me to commit, I would never be a detriment to his well being or length of his life. You'd never be able to justify it."

The succubus grinned even wider, if it were possible at all. "You'd be dead. I could tell her anything I wanted to." She put her hands on her cheeks in a theatric expression. "Oh no! Ryder tried to rape the boy and was going to kill him so I just  _had_  to stop him! Oh, you mean I can keep the boy? I always wanted a pet!" she mocked, followed by high-pitched tittering.

Ryder rushed forward again and backhanded her, the bones in his wrist cracking loudly on contact. He cried out in pain, falling to his feet and grabbing his arm.

"Incubi. Stupid," Kitty rolled her eyes. She stooped down and grabbed Ryder by the throat and dragged him across the floor toward her door. "Just get out. I'm bored with you," she said, tossing him out like a bag of garbage. She slammed the door in his face and chuckled loudly enough for him to hear through the barrier.

Ryder trudged back to Rory's room, nursing his broken bones. Luckily for him, accelerated healing was part of the incubus power-package, so he would be fully healed up in the better part of a day. That didn't mean it would hurt any less until then. He had gone to Kitty with intent to work some of his anger out on her, even though he knew it was a stupid thing to do. He was simply so angry with her, and with himself, yet he had no outlet for his rage but he couldn't think of anything else to do.

"Are ye' okay? Ye' look like ye'r in pain," Rory observed as Ryder slumped down on the edge of the bed.

"I'll be fine by day's end. I think I made my point," Ryder replied.  _Yeah, my point that I'm still a rag doll compared to her._

"Maybe ye' should get some rest. I bet e'en an ink-you-bus needs his sleep to be at full strength," Rory said, over-emphasizing the syllables in 'incubus'. "Ye' can't protect me and take care o' me if ye'r too worn out."

Ryder looked over at him with saddened eyes. "I couldn't protect you from myself, could I? I can't keep you safe. You see that now, right?"

"Let's not talk about what happened right now. Rest. I think I'm gonna go sit in some hot water in the tub for a bit. Might help with the aching," Rory said. He hadn't intended his remark to be mean, but maybe just a slight bit guilting. Ryder had done what he could to assist in his healing, but aches and pains didn't go away quite as easily as actual wounds and Rory was still very upset about the raping incident. He kept going back and forth in his head, unsure how much of the blame should be Ryder's. It was obvious that Kitty was at fault for everything, but just how much could Ryder have prevented or made himself stop was what had him confused. Ryder had been consistently kind to him, and protective, but he couldn't figure out if all that meant nothing now, or if it still held any weight.

-ooo-

Rory awoke to the sound of Artie's voice booming in the room. "Get up, leprechaun! Prepare and be in the throne room within the hour," he said, glaring at the teenager. "You're expected to be clean and your keeper will dress you." He gave a sneer as he said the word 'keeper.' It was obvious that he, like Kitty, felt disdain for the incubus. Not waiting for a response, he turned around and wheeled out of the room with as little fanfare as he had entered.

Ryder had woken up an hour before his charge had. He sat in the bed, watching the boy sleep, feeling nothing but extreme guilt. It was beginning to consume him. He wondered if he should explain what Kitty had meant when she said Rory resembled a previous lover of his. When Rory woke to Artie's unpleasant wake-up call, he decided it best not to mention it.

"I'm afraid it's time. I'm still a bit hurt. Would it be alright if you washed yourself and dressed without my assistance?" the incubus inquired. The injury was a cover—in reality he felt the most awkward thing in the world would be seeing Rory naked again, let alone touching him to bathe him.

"I don't mind. I won't be long," the teen replied, kicking off the covers and getting out of bed, padding to the bathroom, wiping sleep from his eyes.

"I'll ready your clothes and leave them in the bathroom for you," Ryder said. Getting up, he went over to the wardrobe, opening the doors and examining the clothing inside. He wanted to pick out something nice for the boy. He wasn't entirely sure of what Rachel had in store for him, but the least he could do was make sure Rory was comfortable and dressed well.

In the shower, Rory winced as the hot water hit his aching body yet again and trailed down between his cheeks, running over his tender opening. It stung, reminding him of the terrible event that had led to the injury, but he had turned down Ryder's offer of magical pain management. Any form of intimate contact with Ryder seemed incredibly undesirable for the time being. Even letting the man coddle him seemed uncomfortable to a degree.

The sting intensified as he washed over himself with soap, the suds burning him. He bit his bottom lip, praying that Sam would come for him soon. Sam. The only person that could truly make everything all right again.

After ten minutes, Ryder heard the water from the shower turn off. He had finally picked out an outfit that pleased him. He knocked on the bathroom door and waited for permission to enter. Rory was still toweling himself dry, but thankfully had one of the towels wrapped around his waist, preserving his dignity. Ryder said nothing but merely set the garments down on the toilet seat lid and left, forcing himself not to look.

Another ten minutes passed by before the boy emerged from the restroom, fully clothed. He wore a pair of dark blue jeans with matching denim jacket, a pale red shirt underneath. He donned a pair of brown boots, and had his hair neatly gelled. He was very handsome, and it was a shame he was about to meet a very unpleasant experience.

"Have some breakfast, and then I'll take you to the throne room," Ryder said softly, nodding toward the table with a meal of eggs and bacon, sausage links, hash browns and toast sat waiting for him. "Eat up, you will need your strength."

Rory regarded him carefully, picking up on the changed demeanor of his 'keeper.' He sat down at the table and began to eat, occasionally taking sips of orange juice. The thought crossed his mind that orange juice was good for replenishing the blood supply and he had to wonder if that was intentional. He knew in his heart he was about to be forced to part with a large amount of his life force. What scared him the most was how much she intended to take, and how she planned to take it from him.

-ooo-

Everyone on the airplane was suddenly awoken by a loud noise, something much louder than should be heard thirty-thousand feet in the air. It sounded like an explosion.

"Oh my…" Tina breathed, unable to finish her sentence. She, along with Mike, Kurt, Mercedes, and Blaine, were staring at a computer screen at the front of the aircraft, their eyes transfixed in horror at the sight before them. The left wing was on fire.

Mike gathered his wits and dashed to the side of the plane where the three coffins were stowed. He began to bang loudly on the lid of Sam's, startled when it finally opened.

"What's going on!?" Sam shouted, fully alert. "That smell!" In a flash he was in the cabin, pushing the others out of the way so he could see the fire on the screen; a bright orange flame against the night sky. "No…"

Sebastian and Santana joined him in shock, Mike having roused them quickly. Tina had sat herself down in one of the seats, her eyes heavy with tears, her face a mask of fear. Mercedes was screaming at the top of her lungs at Sam, but he was ignoring her. Kurt was interjecting his own expletives along with her. Mike was attempting to prevent Tina from hyperventilating and Blaine and Sam stared at each other, hopeless looks in their eyes.

Santana was screeching back at Mercedes and Kurt, but only Sebastian had any sense of clarity. He almost seemed bored by the entire situation.

"I don't know why everyone's so worked up. We have parachutes of course. Not to mention the shifters can simply take the form of birds and fly," the sheriff said calmly. "Even vampires will be fine as long as we don't fall on a tree. It's the damned humans that are the problem."

"How can you be so casual about this!? We're  _all_  in danger here you fucking idiot!" Sam bellowed. Surprisingly nobody was taken aback by his vulgarity or brashness in insulting his superior. In fact, Sebastian was even more amused by it than before.

"Alright, alright. We'll take the easy way then. Everyone don their parachutes and we jump. The hold in the back can be dumped so our supplies will land below us with their own parachutes. Then out we go. Simple enough for you?" Sebastian replied sarcastically. "No harm to the humans, or anyone else. Well, unless they forget to pull the cord."

"Hold up, hot shot," Santana interrupted. "I'm all fine for a little jump, but I don't think it's a great idea for Ghetto Oprah and the Porcelain Doll-boy to be on their own. Not that it would bother me if they happened to end up wedged somewhere in a mountain, but they  _are_  part of the team." She rolled her eyes and gave both humans a smirk. Blaine held Kurt back while Mike jumped up from Tina and gripped Mercedes' arm.

"She's right. We can't risk their safety any more than we have to. Kurt, you go with Tina, Mercedes with Mike, and Blaine with me. Worst-case scenario, I hear hawks have incredible strength for birds," Sam agreed.

"Enough chatter, let's get a move on," Sebastian said, still as calm as a Hindu cow. He moved to the back of the cabin and opened a cabinet, revealing parachutes. He started pulling them out, one by one and passing them along. "Just fasten these straps, tighten these lines, and the kids get latched onto mummy and daddy and the witch with Samuel, and out we go. I suggest anyone feeling the need to vomit do so now rather than in the air."

As the team began to equip their gear for their airborne escape, the entire aircraft began to shudder. It was becoming difficult to stand without falling over, and once Sebastian opened the cargo door, it was going to get a lot worse.

"The cabin's on fire!" Tina cried suddenly. Sure enough, smoke was pouring into the cabin as everyone finished securing their parachutes and moved into the cargo hold. "Go! We have to go now!"

"Calm down! Check your partner and get ready. As soon as I open this door, it'll be all we can do not to get sucked right out. As soon as we get out, try to spread out a little so we don't get caught in each other's cords!" Sebastian yelled over the increasing noise of the fire and howling coming from outside as the cargo bay door began to slowly lower.

Everyone was holding on to the walls for dear life, not one of them particularly anxious to get this under way. "Ladies first," Sebastian said coolly, motioning for Santana. The woman sauntered up to him as well as she could with the high winds and planted her lips firmly on her maker's mouth, one hand holding on to the handrail on the wall, and the other gripping his crotch and giving him a squeeze.

"See you at the bottom. Don't leave me alone with these fucktarted people, either!" Santana hissed into his ear after her kiss. She winked at him and then let go of the railing. She half-walked and was half-sucked to the opening, the supply crates having already ejected. She turned around and blew Sam a kiss, her sarcastic grin crossing her face before she dived out of the hold.

"I love her dramatics," Sebastian said with a smile. "Next?"

Mike and Mercedes were next. Mercedes was still cussing at Sebastian, damning him to every part of Hell she could think of. Dante Alighieri would be impressed as she passed the seven circles several sentences before. Mike dragged the angry woman out of the bay, praying that she would pass out from fear before they hit the ground.

Kurt was slightly less troublesome as he and Tina made their dive into the sky. He was in tears, mumbling, but otherwise nowhere near as dramatic as Mercedes.

"Well Sam, looks like just us and the witch. You gentlemen care to go first?" Sebastian asked, nodding his head.

"Not on your life.  _You_  first. Then us," Sam replied boldly. "We'll be right behind you."

"Considering I am your sheriff and I have put up with most of this charade of a battle team, you sure are a smart ass," the older vampire said. "See you down below," he said, taking a stroll right off the edge as if he were walking right down the street.

Blaine looked back at Sam, his eyes heavy with dread. "I trust you, Sam. Don't get me killed," he said, giving up all attempts to sound brave.

"Don't worry. We'll be fine. It's the others I'm worried about. I guess we better get on down there," the vampire replied, his confidence shaky. "Ready when you are."

The two men stepped forward and in a joint effort, fell from the platform. The air rushed by their heads, Blaine closing his eyes and waiting for it to be over with. He could feel himself being pulled and pushed this way and that by the cold, harsh wind. He even felt dampness as they tumbled through the clouds.

"Hold on!" he heard Sam shout, but just barely as the rush of wind drowned out most sound. He quickly understood the order, however, as his entire body felt like it was being yanked upward as the parachute opened and the sky grabbed hold of it. They descended quickly as Sam struggled to maintain some semblance of direction and suddenly Blaine felt his body being slammed into the ground. Strong arms were wrapped around him, and they were rolling. He hadn't even noticed the sting of tree branches lashing out at his body when they crashed through the forest. It was those very branches, however, that slowed their descent the last little bit they needed.

When Blaine opened his eyes, he found himself staring up at the leaves and sky, his head spinning. He felt his chest loosen up as the straps around him were released and Sam gently pushed him off. "Sorry about that. Rougher landing than I meant. This  _is_  my first time at this after all," the blonde apologized.

"No worries. We didn't die. Thanks," Blaine said with a pained smiled. His whole body ached and he knew he would be feeling it for days to come. Or so he hoped, because that would mean that he had survived. "Where's everyone else?"

They didn't see anyone else right away, but they heard Mercedes screeching yet again, this time fussing that she was stuck in a tree, Mike still attached to her back. Mike was shouting at her to be quiet and stop waving her arms about. Under any other circumstances, the scene would have been hilarious.

Kurt was sitting with his back next to a tree trunk, his knees drawn up to his chest. Blaine ran over to him to check on him while Tina was busy trying to help Mike and Mercedes down from their perch. Santana and Sebastian were yet to be seen. Sam tried to listen for signs of them, but between Mercedes' yelling and Mike's orders to silence herself, all he could hear was noise. Not waiting to alert anyone else, he began to run around the immediate area in vampire speed, searching for Sebastian and the sheriff's 'daughter'.

-ooo-

"This is such bullshit, Sebastian!" Santana hissed at her maker. "We're risking our lives out here and for what? Some stupid little fairy? This whole crush was cute when it didn't involve me getting my nails broken, but now it's gotten a little obsessive!"

"Santana," Sebastian began calmly. "There are times when I greatly appreciate your opinion on things, particularly when it concerns my well being. However,  _this_  is not one of those times."

The vampiress seethed behind Sebastian's back, suddenly feeling a strong desire to push her luck and tear into him as she so often did behind closed doors. Never would either of them allow someone else to see the inner workings of their relationship, but in secret, Sebastian treated her like an equal and often valued her insight.

Santana decided to press things on anyway, despite how unwise it was. "You're in love with him, aren't you? This isn't just a little crush, you love him," she said evenly. "You-"

"You'd be wise not to continue, Santana," Sebastian said smoothly, placing his finger over her mouth. "My reasons are not anyone else's to understand, not even yours. Be smart,  _don't_  make me command you."

Defeated, the woman simply sighed and glared at him. He smirked in response before turning his attention to their current situation. "I can sense the others in that direction there," he said, pointing. "Of course I can smell Sam's scent all over the place. He's rushing around frantically trying to find us, and if I ever get hold of the CEO of Nautica, I will rip out his throat and eat it because that cologne Sam wears is way too overpowering."

Before he could continue griping about trivial matters, Sam found them. He stopped before them, looking them over to assess their status. "You two look like you made it through alright. Come on, everyone else is waiting," the blonde said, not waiting for a reply. The three vampires quickly ran to where the other team members had landed.

Santana burst into laughter when she spotted Mercedes and Mike still hanging in the tree. Despite not needing air, she fell to one knee and placed her hand on her chest as if hyperventilating from too much enjoyment. Mercedes began to swear at her but was quickly interrupted when the tether came loose, and she and Mike fell from the parachute.

Sam rushed to catch the flailing woman, doing so only out of respect for Rory and the fact that she was his friend. He really was annoyed by the way she was acting and concerned even more that she might attract attention. He could easily have glamoured her into silence, but it was a vow he had made to himself not to use his influence on people more than necessary and especially not on Rory's friends. It would be an extreme breach of trust on his part and he wasn't about to risk it, even under the circumstances.

Mercedes actually thanked Sam for catching her, her torrent of vulgarity finally stopping. Mike had landed much easier, his legs far more limber and able to absorb the impact from such a high distance. As Mercedes brushed herself off, Sam took a quick look around, again assessing the situation.

Kurt was still sitting against a tree, Blaine talking quietly to him. Sam could hear their conversation but chose to block it out, again out of respect for the humans. Santana was recovering from her fit of laughter, and Sebastian was simply standing and observing silently, slyly stealing glances in Blaine's direction and admiring his rear. Mike and Tina were talking quietly as well; another conversation he chose to ignore.

"Okay, status check. Everyone alright?" Sam asked, trying to bring things back to order. "Sorry for the crazy exit, but it was better than exploding in the plane I think. We'll take another five minutes for everyone to get themselves together and then we have to get moving. Sebastian, the GPS?"

Sebastian glanced at his wrist, a contraption strapped to it. He pressed a couple of buttons and the screen lit up, filling with information and an image. "North, about three miles. We got lucky to land so close. If we had waited any longer to jump, we might be walking a hell of a lot further than this."

-ooo-

Rachel sat on her throne in the back of the ornate room with all of the mirrors. They were all repaired, including the chandeliers and anything else that had been destroyed during the previous confrontation with the leprechaun.

Kitty sauntered in, her translucent dress flowing around her. "They've been taken care of, mistress," she said with a very wide grin. "Their aircraft was shot down from the sky, and crashed a few miles from here. There's no way any of them, even the vampires, could have survived such an explosion."

"Yes, I felt the vibrations of the blast. I'm not entirely certain they didn't escape. They're crafty, this particular group. Well, not too crafty considering they took the bait of my invite. I would have let you play with them, but I just couldn't risk something happening," Rachel said doubtfully. She was confident, but not arrogantly so. "Who made the shot?"

"Arthur. Well, you know how much he prefers Artie, but him. I must say, he has quite a knack for weaponry and mechanical things," Kitty replied. "I imagine he'd be a good fighter if he wasn't a cripple." She giggled at the use of Artie's most hated word.

Rachel let a smile cross her face. "You're cruel, Kitty. You know how much I like that." Kitty beamed proudly like a child having just been commended on a piece of artwork. "When I get the blood, my power will increase, and I can help Artie to walk again. He will be a skilled fighter, but his knowledge is vastly more important. He is as wise as any sage, and just as you said, very handy with mechanicals. I just find his bitter attitude annoying, and his insistence on wearing such drab, old fashioned clothing doesn't help."

It was Kitty's turn to giggle. "Not everyone can dress as well as Ryder when it comes to men, mistress."

Rachel let out a loud guffaw. "Kitty, you're as see-through as your dress! Your crush on that incubus is endearing to me, and incredibly obvious. It's unfortunate he prefers his own kind. Men, I mean."

The succubus frowned, her face turning to one of sorrow. Her features even seemed to lose their luster. "He hasn't been the same since that brat a couple hundred years ago. Ever since the perfect boy, that  _Damian_ , he has moped around in misery. He doesn't even seem to enjoy his conquests much anymore. It's disgusting."

"I think you're jealous. Unbecoming of a succubus, really, but understandable. I remember that Ryder was willing to offer his own life for him. It came to me in a vision that the boy would die of a horrible disease, something they've since found a cure for. I prepared to let sing my wail, my call of death, but Ryder came to me, begging me to spare him." Rachel closed her eyes as she recalled the vivid memory from so long ago. "I took pity on him. I let the boy live in exchange for Ryder's eternal service.. Too bad for him, the boy died anyway of his own accord later on."

Kitty kept the strongest poker face she could muster. She, and only she, knew the truth about Damian's death. Not even Ryder knew what had happened. Kitty had lured him to death with her own tantalizing abilities. She was beyond cruel in her torment, and by the time she was finished, the young man was in such despair that Kitty did him the favor of a merciful slaughter. And slaughter it was as she used her ability to force him to cut himself. He was bleeding badly as she walked him to the highest cliff near the shores of the ocean and gave him that final encouragement to leap. He needn't jump, however, as his weakening body collapsed, falling forward and over the edge, leaving his form broken and dead on the rocks below. There were no traces of evidence that Kitty had anything to do with it. Damian had written a classic goodbye note to Ryder, and the trail of blood led from his home to the cliff. Ryder despaired so deeply at that point that he considered committing suicide himself, but Kitty convinced him not to.

The one concern Kitty had over the leprechaun was that if he touched her, he could dig into her memory and find that very night in her head and drag it out, then spill the truth to both Ryder and Rachel. Fortunately for her, succubi and incubi had incredible control over their minds, so it would take quite the venture to drag anything out of her.

-ooo-

"Are you scared?" Ryder asked as he went to unlock the bedroom door. He refused to look at the boy, knowing that if he did, his heart would burst. They looked too much alike. They acted too much alike-the kindness, the understanding, the innocence, the bravery.

"I'd be lying if I said no," Rory replied quietly. "Do ye' really not know what's gonna happen?" He placed his hand on Ryder's bicep, pulling the man to face him. "Please, look at me. I know ye' won't lie."

Ryder sighed heavily, forcing back a tear. "I really don't know. I can tell you this much, however. I know she doesn't want to kill you. If she kills you, that's it. When the effect of your blood wears off, she has no more. She has to keep you alive, like some sort of… fountain of power. It's just that… there are some things worse than death," the incubus admitted.

Rory shuddered and hugged himself. "Why can't I fight her, Ryder? Why can't I use me power to protect meself? And.. and ye'."

"Why would you want to protect me? After what I did? If you want to fight anyone, it should be me. If you want to kill anyone, it should be me," Ryder answered, his voice quivering slightly.

"We've discussed that already. I don't want to revisit it again. I want to protect ye' because despite that incident, ye've been kind to me. Ye've looked out for me, and been a friend to me. One mistake doesn't give me the right to fight or kill a friend, even if it was a really huge mistake."

Ryder closed his eyes, trying to fight back the tears, but failing miserably. He opened them again, his vision blurry. He ran the back of his hand across the leprechaun's cheek, the soft feeling of the boy's skin bringing forth more memories.

"You're just like him," Ryder whispered. Without knowing what he was doing, he wrapped his arms around the boy, placing his hand on the back of his head, holding him to his chest. "Damian, why did you have to leave me? Why can't I come with you?"

Rory was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable, fully aware that Ryder was under some sort of emotional hallucination. At the same time he pitied the man. Falling in love so long ago and then having it taken from him had to be horrible. So he assumed anyway. Ryder had never explained himself, but Rory gathered from his few comments that apparently this boy was someone Ryder was in love with, and for some reason they were torn apart. What could he do for the man who had been so kind to him despite his nature? Could he do something to ease Ryder's despair?

_Sam, forgive me,_ Rory thought. He released himself from Ryder's grasp, standing in front of him, their bodies inches away. He swallowed back his fear, his apprehension, and his guilt as he was about to do something he didn't want to do, but knew was the only thing he could give the man. He leaned forward and pulled Ryder closer, closer, closer. Rory closed his eyes and let his lips press against the other man's.

Rory's lips, plus his hands on Ryder's biceps were more than enough tactile contact to do what he needed to do. While their lips continued to touch, he dug his mind into the incubus. He let himself walk through the memories, centuries of memories. Some were horrible, some were good, and some were simply blank space, a void. "Damian!?" he called out mentally. "Please! Come out!" No reply, so he dug deeper into the incubus' head. It was the farthest he had ever gone into another person's mind, and it was scary. Finally he saw a faint glimmer ahead. A glimmer that magnified into a human form, a form that looked eerily enough like Rory himself. There were slight differences, but for the most part it was like looking into a mirror. A mental mirror. "Come with me," his mind instructed. The boy, Damian, took his lead and followed forward, back through the centuries of memories, back through the horrors and the voids. Finally they were at the front of Ryder's mind.

"This is where ye' stay. The strongest memory he has," Rory thought. He felt himself slam back into his own head, their lips parting, his hands falling to his sides-the tactile tether gone. He felt a sudden headache and could detect something running from his nose. He brought up his finger and wiped across his upper lip, and when he pulled back, it was red with blood.

Unsure of exactly what to do next as Ryder fell to his knees in tears, Rory turned and walked away to the bathroom. He wiped his nose clean of blood, his headache still strong. He had never before dug so deeply, and never before tried to actually make some sort of contact with a memory. It was like reaching into a movie and touching the actors, dragging them away from the scene. It was something he hadn't been entirely sure he could do, but somehow he had, and now he was paying for it with a very bad headache and a bloody nose.

_I'm so sorry, Sam. I had to. For his kindness._ The guilt was settling in, the knowledge that he had willingly kissed a man other than Sam weighing in on him. He prayed that Sam would understand, that he wouldn't be angry with him. It wasn't a kiss of passion, or a kiss of infidelity. It was a means to an end that was what he hoped was the right thing to do. Whatever the case, it was something he would have to confess to the vampire at a later time, when all of this was over.

When he walked back into the bedroom, Ryder was still on his knees, his head in his hands. "Damian… It's all so clear. It's like you were here with me just yesterday." He stopped and looked up at Rory. "What did you do to me?"

Rory smiled and knelt down, looking the incubus in the eyes, seeing the faintest teal glow appearing there. "I found ye'r memories o' him. I brought them back, so ye' could see them clearly again. I tried to make them stay there. I hope it works." Ryder began to smile, his eyes watering again. "I can't bring him back, but maybe the memories will help ye'."

"Yeah, I think they will. After all this time, things were getting hazy, starting to fade no matter how hard I tried to hold on to the memories. Thank you, Rory. I don't deserve your compassion. You are so much like him. He would have done the same thing. Damian was so kind, so selfless."

"I know. Ye' told me. When I was in ye'r head I mean. The memories I saw o' him as I pulled him out. And he could sing. When I was in ye'r head, all I could hear in there was the sound o' a young man's voice singing. It was an echo that got stronger the closer I got," Rory explained.

"It's so unfair. It's so unfair that I have to take you to her, to let her do whatever she plans to do with you. You have to believe I don't want to," Ryder pleaded. "This would all be so much easier if you hated me."

"It's not in me nature to hate people. I'm afraid of what's going to happen. I'm terrified. I don't want to go through that door right now and I don't want to go in her throne room and take whate'er she has in mind. Me last hope is Sam. If he comes, help him. That's all I ask."

Ryder stood up. "I'm sorry. We have to go now." He turned around and unlatched the door, escorting his young friend down the hall. They walked in silence until they finally stood before the large door to Rachel's throne room. He placed his hand on the handle but paused, turning his head to the frightened teen. "When he comes, I'll help him. I promise. I have to confess, I think… I think I love you."

Rory smiled. "No, ye' love Damian. Only him. Ye' just see me as his memory. That's what ye' love. It's always been him, and it always will be. Alive or dead, he's ye'r soul mate and someday, somehow ye'll be together again."

Ryder offered a pained grin before turning back to face the door. He pushed the latch and opened it, revealing the beautiful throne room. Rachel sat in the middle, dressed in a regal gown of translucent fabrics that billowed around her motionless form. Kitty stood at her side, equally beautiful but with the pleasured sneer of a spoiled child on her lips.

It was time to get this over with.

-ooo-

It took slightly longer for Sam and the others to travel three miles than it should have, only because Kurt and Mercedes were constantly complaining about the trek. Their endurance and stamina for physical exertion was vastly different from their non-human counterparts. Blaine seemed to be just fine, but he also spent time at the gym that his friends did not.

They arrived at the gates to the fortress, expecting some sort of opposition but seeing none. From the outside, the entire building was every bit the stereotypical castle of olden days, albeit with numerous modern conveniences such as lighting and electronic gates. It boasted towers complete with glassless windows. It appeared to be several stories high, with an otherwise flat roof. Elaborate stonework decorated the walls, tall columns outlining the main entrance. One odd addition to the ancient-looking castle was a visible satellite dish flanked by what appeared to be spotlights and strobes. It was garish and just the sort of thing a self-absorbed songstress would have on her stage of a home.

"Now how the hell are we gonna get inside? It's got walls all around it and a huge gate!" Mercedes questioned, putting her hands on her hips. "I hope you don't think I'm going to climb over that big-ass iron fence!"

"Calm down, Rambo Barbie," Santana said harshly. "Nobody expects you to you haul your fat ass over that fence. You can wait right out here and be ready to run. You should know all about running away from a crime scene," she added, cackling.

"Oh hells no, this bitch did  _not_  just make that racist-ass comment!" Mercedes howled. "You better hope I don't get hold of a stake because I doubt anyone would miss your sarcastic ass."

"Oh please, I would snap your neck before you even got a chance to get a splinter. I've killed hundreds of humans far more threatening than you," Santana stated, sneering.

"Enough!" Sam bellowed over them. "We don't have time for this! Put your energy into this mission, not bickering with each other, otherwise you'll both end up dead during the first fight," he said, glaring at both women.

Sebastian giggled as his subject scolded the arguing pair. "Now children, don't make me turn this rag-tag team around and go home. There will be no dessert tonight if you can't behave yourselves," he teased. He decided it best not to call bullshit on his progeny's declaration of multiple human homicides, lest the argument amplify once again.

Ignoring both Mercedes' and Santana's harsh eyes, he went on to answer the original question of entry. "Anyhow, there's a way in. Unless it's been changed," Sebastian said matter-of-factly. "Don't look at me like that. I have been here ages ago, but I sure didn't meet a crazy banshee." Everyone was staring. It was the first any of them, including Santana, had heard of Sebastian's visit to this god-forsaken place.

"Then what  _were_  you doing here, Sebastian?" Sam demanded. Everyone shifted their eyes from one man to the other and back, waiting to see how much the confrontation would escalate. Neither man cared for each other, and the fact Sebastian had been at this very location once before didn't exactly instill confidence in anyone, especially when two other teammates had nearly been at blows only seconds before.

Sebastian scoffed. "Oh calm down, Samuel. I came back here with an incubus a couple centuries ago and we had quite a nice time for a few days."

"They fucked each other's brains out," Santana verified. Her maker looked at her, surprised. "Well what else would you mean? A riveting weekend of drinking tea and playing board games?"

Satisfied that she was unaware of his past tryst and merely expounding on his speech, he went on.

"Yes, we fucked like rabbits for days on end. It was exhausting but the best sex I had ever had up to that point. Of course, I never knew this was where that batshit banshee lived, and I don't even know if that incubus still lives here. He may be long gone. It's not like we kept in touch. They didn't have e-mail or cell phones back then you know," the sheriff pointed out harshly.

Still skeptical, Sam brought up his next point. "If he brought you back so willingly, then why do you know about a back door? Shouldn't he have just taken you in the front? Or did he forget his keys?" he asked sarcastically.

"Trust me, I got well acquainted with his back door," Sebastian answered with a smirk, motioning for the others to follow him. "This isn't really hidden, it's just accessed through the gardens. Typical hedge maze. You can simply squeeze through the bushes. It really isn't that hard, nor is it the best security system, either."

Sam's and Sebastian's enhanced hearing heard Santana comment under her breath, "The rest of us can squeeze through, but chunk-style over there might not fit." Luckily the woman in question did not hear, and neither Sam nor Sebastian felt it necessary to make an issue of the insult.

Sure enough, they turned the corner and saw the large growth of the hedge garden. Sebastian approached one of the shrubbery walls and dug his hands inside, then ripped them apart, the crackling of branches and falling of leaves accompanying his invasion.

"How did you know you could get in this way?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Simple. I had seen it. Despite what you might believe, we had a lot of sex, but we did spend some time  _not_  fucking. One night we strolled through the gardens until we decided to move on to other things in the farther corners of the maze. Pure logic would tell you that a hedge could simply be cut open. You really should try to keep up, Sam," the sheriff replied smugly.

"Fine. Sebastian, you go in first. Mike next, and then Santana and I will bring up the rear after the rest of you. When you get on the other side, stay put, don't run off without us," Sam ordered.

"You don't have to talk to us like we're twelve," Kurt barked back. "We're perfectly capable of-"

The teen was interrupted abruptly as Sam turned on him, the vampire's finger in his face, his fangs extended. "Look, I didn't ask you to come. You insisted. You have no powers, you're vulnerable and at the moment a real burden, so how about you remember that you're under our protection and just do what I tell you to without a bunch of crap?" he hissed. He normally didn't get that aggressive or talk to people that way, but Kurt and Mercedes were both getting on his nerves and were more of a detriment than an asset with their constant complaining and sarcastic commentary. If they were to stay safe and be of use, they needed to be quiet and do what they were told. Santana was working his nerves as well, but with her vampire abilities she was still an asset and she would not be so easy to intimidate.

Sebastian and Santana watched as Sam finished his harsh words, the pair of them smiling smugly. "About time someone shut those brats up," Santana whispered to her maker. The pair of them giggled, visibly annoying Kurt and Mercedes.

"Sam, calm down," Blaine said sternly, putting his hand on the man's still extended finger and pushing down. "They'll stay in line, right guys?" he asked, looking to his friends in a plea for agreement.

"Y-yeah. Sure thing," Kurt mumbled. Mercedes merely nodded, neither human taking their eyes off of Sam's sharp teeth.

"We're this close to Rory. Keep a cool head and we can get him back home, safe and sound," Blaine said to Sam, staring him in the eyes. "Now let's get through those shrubs and save our friend."

Sam nodded and gave Blaine a slight smile. He was right, Sam needed to keep a cool head and calm himself down if he was going to succeed. "Thanks," he said softly. "You might be what gets us through this."

"Those two have a serious bromance going on," Santana whispered to Sebastian. "They just need to go ahead and fuck already and get it over with before we get the boy. Hey, maybe they'll go for a foursome, Seb."

Sebastian cut his eyes at the younger vampire, silencing her jovial mocking. "Just focus and do what I order you," he said. "I guess since I opened the door, I'll go through first. I'll see you all on the other side," he added, raising his voice to an authoritative level.

"Wait," Mike spoke up for the first time since arriving at the castle. "Let me and Tina go first. We'll shift into birds and get a better view of what we might be up against. We have no idea what's on the other side of that hedge."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow and looked around at the others. "You have a valid point. How embarrassing that I didn't think of it first," he said. "Very well. The pair of you go first. We'll hold your clothing here for when you return."

Saying nothing, Mike and Tina nodded at each other and quickly disrobed. The three humans all blushed and turned away, not expecting to ever see their friends in the nude. Neither shifter was fazed by it, however.

"Fascinating," the sheriff commented as he and the other vampires watched as the two shifters began to take on different forms, shrinking down, arms turning to wings, legs to talons, faces to beaks. Where two people once stood, now two blackbirds perched atop heaps of clothing.

The two blackbirds began to flap their wings, taking off into the sky to investigate. The rest of the team quietly waited for them to return. Blaine was standing with Kurt, talking softly to him. Mercedes was sitting on the ground, seemingly pouting at her earlier reprimand. Santana was leaning up against the hedge, this time buffing her nails.

"Does she ever stop messing with her fingernails?" Sam inquired.

"She's sharpening them. One thing Santana is good at is a catfight. Her nails are razor sharp and I can guarantee they could shred even a Kevlar vest," Sebastian explained proudly.

Sam smiled at the cleverness of the woman. He strongly disliked her, but he had to admit she was smart. He never would have thought to do such a thing. He and Sebastian stood in silence, everyone waiting impatiently for the return of their scouts.

What had to be twenty minutes later, the two blackbirds returned, shifting back into human form as they landed. Again the three humans averted their eyes as the shifters pulled their attire back on as they explained their findings.

"Not exactly a lot out there," Mike said. "A simple hedge maze as you said, and not a guard in sight. The back entrance is mostly glass. I don't know who did the designing around here, but someone needs to tell her you don't mix contemporary, modern, Greek, and medieval architecture in one building."

"That's his critical side coming out," Tina explained. "He's right though. Any enhancements to the structure seem incredibly out of place, but lucky for us, that tacky glass entrance is our ticket for an easy way inside."

"Excellent. Then we proceed as planned," Sebastian stated, nodding toward the two supernatural beings. Not waiting for a response from anyone, he slid through the hole in the brush, stepping out into the maze itself.

The others followed suit, Sam the last one to come through. All around them were nothing but plants. High hedges, flowers, everything. Under any other circumstances, it would have been beautiful, but for now it just looked creepy.

"Well, genius, where to now?" Santana asked, rolling her eyes toward her maker.

"We're splitting up," Sebastian stated. Mercedes looked like she was going to open her mouth but Kurt quickly nudged her, reminding her of Sam's reaction at their previous outburst. "Look, this place is huge; there's a lot of ground to cover. Rory could be anywhere, as could the banshee, the succubus, and whatever other crazies she has working for her. The best way to get through this place is to split into groups."

"I'll take the direct route in," Sam announced, walking past Sebastian. The sheriff grabbed his arm, halting him abruptly.

"No, you won't," the elder said firmly, staring Sam in the eyes, challenging him. "If they're expecting us, and they most likely are, they'll be ready to take you out in a heart beat."

Sam huffed but relented, knowing the older man was right. A direct intrusion would be easily thwarted. "Alright, what do you suggest then?"

Smirking, Sebastian paused a moment before replying, eyeing each of the members of their team one by one as if mentally surveying each one's effectiveness in combat. After a few minutes, his plan was formed.

-ooo-

"Bring him forward," Rachel announced, her voice echoing through the chamber. She was going for theatrics again, speaking in a regal tone of voice. Steeling himself, Rory stepped forward, Ryder at his side.

"It'll be okay," Ryder whispered as they came to a halt in front of the throne. He stepped back and off to the side, crossing his arms in front of him and watching.

Rachel stood and approached the tall leprechaun hybrid, her eyes roving him up and down. "Last time we had some rather… unpleasantness in our conversation," she cooed. "You look to have healed up quite nicely."

"Ryder helped me with that," Rory said flatly. "He's been taking good care o' me. Much better than ye'."

The banshee raised her arm as if to slap him, but instead straightened her hair. "He's had proper training. I'm a free spirit. He is enslaved to me. I tell him to take care of you, and he does. I hope you don't think he's doing it out of the kindness of his heart," she teased, smiling and batting her eyes.

"He follows ye'r orders, but I've seen in his head. There's humanity there. He's a good person," Rory declared confidently. "It's ye'r Kitty that has no humanity in her, and I don't need to see in her head to know that."

The banshee tittered a high-pitched laugh. "Oh silly boy, Kitty does indeed have a soul. It's damned, but she has one. She has hundreds, really. Every soul she has sucked out of her victims is locked inside of her somewhere. Her mind is a darkness that even Satan would be proud of. However, I chose Ryder to be your caretaker for very specific reasons, and since he's done such a good job, he'll continue to be your caretaker. That said, you will be owing him a great deal of thanks when we're done and he once again takes care of you."

"What do ye' want with me? Ye' want me blood? Fine, I'll give ye' some. Get a needle like normal people, or e'en an IV. Ye' don't 'ave to go with the crazy stuff," the teen informed her.

"But see, I  _like_  the crazy stuff. I  _like_  causing pain and suffering to get what I want. I need that blood, and I'll take it how I want to," the woman said sternly. "Now, I have tired of your chatter. Last time there was too much talk, not enough blood for my liking. If you just cooperate, the pain will be much easier on you." She tittered again and then sighed. "Oh who am I kidding, child? It's going to be your worst nightmare no matter what. It will be legendary even in Hell."

Rory's body began to quiver as Rachel's words sent chills up and down his spine. There was no reasoning with her. There was no bargaining. She was insane, and she had every intention of making him suffer, particularly since she knew Ryder would be taking care of his wounds after she was finished with him.

"It's time to go downstairs. Ryder, bring the boy. Kitty, bring up the rear. I don't want them getting any ideas," Rachel ordered. She glided effortlessly to the back of the room where she pressed gently against one of the glass panels. It slid away to reveal a hidden doorway. She continued through it, followed by Rory, Ryder, and Kitty. The door closed behind them, locking them in darkness.

After a while, Rachel stopped, seeming to have hit a wall. She pressed into another panel that slid away, revealing a spiral staircase. The stairwell was lit by electric sconces on the walls. She began to descend, the other three slowly following her. Aside from their footsteps, the only other noise was a slight giggling coming from Kitty as she danced her way behind them. Neither Rory nor Ryder knew who was more insane—Kitty, or Rachel.

When they arrived at the bottom of the stairwell, they passed through an archway and down a short passage before yet another slide-away panel. Rory had to wonder why they bothered with the panels at all since there seemed to be no security whatsoever to them. The hall opened out into a large room that was lit by harsh white lights. Stainless steel tables stood on one side, a cloth covering one of them. The cloth was lumpy, obviously hiding something underneath. At the back of the room were shackles on the wall.

"Ryder, remove all but his underwear. I don't want his nicer clothes getting blood on them," Rachel ordered casually. Reluctantly, Ryder led Rory up to the nearest table, meeting eyes with him.

"I'm so sorry," the incubus said softly, reaching forward to unbutton the boy's shirt. His upper body exposed, Ryder picked him up and sat him on the edge of the table. Rory felt like he was at the doctor's office, preparing for an examination. His caretaker removed his shoes and socks, then reached forward to unbutton the boy's pants. He shuffled them off and then neatly folded everything and set the items up on the table. He steeled his jaw shut, trying not to show the emotions he was feeling, but his tears betrayed him.

"Good. Now, I want him against the wall," the banshee instructed. Without waiting for Ryder to encourage him, Rory stepped up to the wall and leaned against it, shivering at the cold metal against his bare skin. Ryder took one of the teen's wrists and lifted it, pulling a shackle from the wall and latching him in place. He did the same with the other wrist, and then he knelt down before him. Ryder adjusted Rory's feet so they were spaced about a foot apart and latched his ankles to the wall as well. It looked like a bastardization of the crucifixion.

"Ryder, you'll be sitting in the chair over there," Rachel said, pointing to a large chair off to the side. The incubus didn't argue but merely sat down, allowing Kitty to strap his wrists and ankles in as well. "I don't need you trying to interfere."

"Just wait Ryder, this is going to be so much fun to watch," Kitty cooed in his ear as she pulled the last buckle closed. "His blood will pour and his screams will be music to our ears. My loins quiver just thinking about it!"

A troll of a man, entered the room as if on cue. He was balding with deep olive skin and a doctor's uniform, except it was a shade of brown rather than white. He stopped at the table with the cloth and then faced his mistress.

"Ah, Figgins. Perfect. I expect everything is as I asked?" the banshee inquired, addressing the man.

"Yes, ma'am. Everything is laid out for your enjoyment as requested. I also have the proper cleanup tools for when you are finished. I will see to it that nothing is left unclean," the trollish man answered in a thick Indian accent.

Rachel merely smiled and stepped forward to the table. She pulled the cloth away to reveal various implements, most of them sharp. Her eyes gleamed at the sight of the items. The first item she picked up resembled a horse's bit without the strap. She took it in her hand and approached her captive.

Kitty sat on the edge of the empty table across from the one holding implements, her eyes bright and her smile inhumanly excitable. She was already running her hands over her body, obviously aroused by the scene.

"Here. Bite on this, you'll be thankful for it momentarily," Rachel cooed, placing it between Rory's teeth. She returned to the table where she gazed over the various tools, dragging out the dread the most she could. She would only get this satisfaction once – the fear of the entire episode beginning. Once she started, the anxiety would dissipate and become pure terror.

Ryder was again in tears when he saw Rachel pick up a knife. It was small, the size of a pocket knife, but much sharper and shinier, with a smooth edge as opposed to serrated. Rory gulped, his eyes transfixed on the blade she held in her fingertips.

"Don't do this," he pleaded between the bit and his teeth. The woman showed no emotion as she placed the tip of the blade in the palm of his right hand. He tried to summon forth any bit of energy he could into his hands, but something was subduing his abilities. He deduced that it must have been something in his food, a dampening agent like he had been given upon his arrival—most likely added by the wheelchaired man, Kitty, or Rachel herself. Had it been Ryder, he would have seen it in his mind earlier.

Rachel licked her lips and then slowly dragged the edge of the blade across his palm, a bright red line forming and beginning to ooze quickly.

Rory bit down on the bite so hard he thought it might break in his mouth. The growl escaping his throat was primal and angry, scared and hurt. The pain seemed to magnify as the woman before him licked the wound, the blood flowing down her throat and into her stomach.

"Mmm, it's like… like liquid gold," the woman cooed, closing her eyes and savoring the taste. "Perfection." Satisfied, she moved to the other side, making an equal cut in his other palm, eliciting a slightly weaker yet still primal sound from the boy. Again, she licked the wound, the heat of the life force traveling to her insides.

Rachel stepped back, observing her victim. Streaks of red covered his palms, but the blood wasn't flowing freely. Not the way it soon would be. She returned to the table, making her next decision. When she turned around and revealed the chosen implement, Rory's eyes widened in newfound horror, his body sweating and heart pounding harder than ever as she approached him.

Rory's screams echoed through the entire room and into the hallway, up the stairwell, and into the main chamber. It didn't take long before the bit dropped from his mouth and he was crying out in agony, begging the woman to stop. His vision was hazy, tears streaming down his cheeks. Blood ran from various places on his body, every new wound another source for the insane banshee to imbibe from.

The screams of the leprechaun were soon joined by the orgasmic squeals of Kitty as she plied her supple breasts, popping them out of her dress. While one hand worked the tender flesh of her nipples, the other tended to her wet orifice between her legs. Just seeing the very act was enough to make Ryder want to vomit. Even in his worst days never did he find arousal by torture, and witnessing Kitty in a sexual frenzy as she gazed at the scene was infuriating and disgusting all at once.

Shock finally took over and allowed Rory to pass out just as Rachel finished her final cut. Figgins handed her a handkerchief for the woman to wipe her mouth daintily as if she were merely leaving a tea party. "Clean this up," she said simply, dropping the fabric napkin into Figgins' outstretched hands. "Come, Kitty," she added. The woman and her assistant strolled out of the room, Kitty giggling like a schoolgirl.

Just as Figgins removed the latches from around Ryder's limbs, the man stood up and shoved the little troll backward. "Fuck off, Figgy," Ryder hissed angrily. "I have work to do."

Figgins snarled at him but left the room willingly, ready to return when the human was taken back to his holding room.

As soon as Kitty and Rachel re-entered the throne room, they heard the sound of a loud boom and felt the shaking of the room. A bomb.

"Mistress?" Kitty asked worriedly.

"They've survived and come for him,' Rachel said casually. "You know what to do. See to it that everything is taken care of. Since somebody didn't die in that crash, we'll have a little fun with them. Kill whom you must, but keep Sam alive. I want him to see his broken toy before I end him right in front of the boy's eyes. After all, since he's here I may as well get some unexpected fun out of the deal."

Kitty beamed happily. "As you wish!" she cheered, practically dancing out of the room. Rachel watched her leave before sitting down on her throne. It was only then that she allowed a look of slight concern to cross her features. The blood she had drunk was warm inside of her, tingling throughout her body, but she wasn't feeling the exact sensations she had expected. It worried her, and now was definitely not the best time for things to not be going as planned.

 


	12. Season 1, Episode 12: War - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Author's Notes: Finally! It's the last chapter for the season! We now find out the fates of our characters and these teens are in for the fight of their lives. I loved writing this so much that I already am making plans for the next season! After all, we still haven't seen the appearance of numerous characters from Glee, so just imagine what roles they may have. New villains, new creatures, new powers, new drama, and lots of OMGWTFBBQ! Thank you to my boys Ragnarok45 and AndyMixter for getting me going on this project and huge thank you to TVTime for his outstanding beta work. We went over these chapters and plotlines and everything else so many times we could both recite it in our sleep. Thanks for reading, I appreciate the support and see you next season!_  
>  ****  
> Beta Credit: TVTime

**Season 1, Episode 12: War, Part 2**

"That wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I asked if you could make us a  _small_  hole in the wall to get in," Sebastian said sarcastically, looking at Blaine with annoyance and amusement. "With all that noise we may as well have gone right through the glass doors. Oh well, I guess we make our grand entrance."

"I'm sorry! I told you guys I don't have a whole lot of practical experience with this stuff. I know it, but I don't have a lot of practice!" Blaine defended. "It's not exactly in our day-to-day studies to learn how to blow holes in things."

"Don't worry about it," Sam told the teenage Wiccan, who was turning ten shades of red in embarrassment and anger. Sebastian had asked him to turn a small section of the wall intangible so that they could quickly sneak inside without being detected. When Blaine cast the spell, however, it caused a large chunk of the wall to explode instead, the tremor shattering the glass doors as well. It was loud and shook the entire castle, ensuring that anyone inside was aware of their intrusion.

"Come on then, let's get inside and perhaps hide before anyone sees us," the sheriff ordered, stepping first through the new opening. Everyone else followed him inside, finding themselves in a large, open room. It appeared to be one of many foyers where several staircases met and interweaved with each other. Aside from the destroyed entryway, it looked rather elegant.

Before they had time to contemplate their next move, numerous figures emerged from various hidden doors all around them. Guards. They were all dressed in solid black garb reminiscent of a SWAT team, wielding guns and melee weapons, with masks hiding their faces. Heavily armored, they were not going to be easy to get around. Some had even slipped behind them, cutting off their exit back outside. Every firearm was pointed at the small group of intruders.

"This is  _not_  good," Sebastian said calmly, looking around at the others.

"You're damn right this isn't good! We're good as dead! We're screwed! We're-" Kurt's words were cut off as Santana clapped her hand over his mouth.

"Shut up! Just shut the fuck up, and do what you're told, for the fiftieth time you fucktarted human!" she hissed at him. "Keep it up, and I will kill, fuck, and eat you myself." Kurt gulped, suddenly unsure who to be more afraid of—Santana or the guards. Blaine glared harshly at her, hoping she was more bark than bite. He knew he should have come to Kurt's defense, but they had bigger problems at the moment than hurt feelings.

A familiar voice began to echo in the hall, accompanied by a high-pitched laugh. "Welcome boys and girls," Kitty announced, stepping out from the large, wooden double doors on the second floor. She approached the railing and peered over, looking at her new captives. "You really made this entirely too easy. I was hoping for some sort of challenge." She looked back at the mess they had made of the entryway, letting out a firm 'tsk tsk'. "Oh dear, the mistress will not be happy about that. Those were new doors."

"Where's Rory?" Sam barked, pure rage in his eyes. He ignored the guards closing in on them, tightening their circle. "Where is he, you bitch!?"

Kitty cackled at him. "Like I'm going to tell you! It won't matter anyway, I'm going to kill every last one of you!" she replied, leaning on the rail. She was no longer wearing a dress but was in a dark pink and black outfit. It barely covered the essentials, the backside open with a sash of material flowing down from the back of her waist, the underside of her breasts visible in the tight tube-top. Her boots came up to her knees and she wore loose open-flared coverings that began at her elbows. Her hair was wavy and long, the pink streaks matching her clothing. Had she not been an evil creature, she would have been arousing and enticing. Instead she was beautifully dangerous.

Instinctively and in a single movement, Sebastian, Santana, and Sam all leapt into the air and over the railing, ready to assault their taunting assailant. The sudden disruption threw the guards off of their game, startling them and causing them to lose focus on their surrounded targets. Tina and Mike both shifted their hands into claws resembling the paws of wolves and fell back into a fighting stance. Kurt and Mercedes raised their guns, and Blaine began to chant a spell, all five of them backing up against each other.

Sam lunged for Kitty, grabbing her throat and rushing forward. She twisted out of his grasp and grabbed his arm, slamming him into the double doors, the wood exploding inward. Santana leapt into the air, flipped, and landed on the woman, sitting on her shoulders. Santana threw her weight backwards, using her legs to pull and throw Kitty across the balcony, where Sebastian caught her and held her arms back tightly.

Down below, the guards began to fire their guns, but the bullets halted in midair and fell to the floor. Blaine's protection spell was taking effect. He said another word in Latin and the invisible bubble around them expanded outward violently, knocking the guards off their feet. It shattered the barrier but allowed Mike and Tina to dive into the fray, crashing into the nearest guards and clawing at their Kevlar armor with their sharp claws. Mercedes and Kurt began to fire their weapons in front of them, aiming down at the fallen soldiers. Bullets bounced off of the helmets and barely punctured the armor, however as neither one of them had shot a gun before, let alone a high-powered automatic rifle.

Kitty wrenched herself free from Sebastian's grip, spinning around and shoving him backward before doing a backflip, her foot connecting with his chin and throwing him into the ceiling. Sebastian landed with a thud and a deep growl resonated from his throat.

Having recovered, Sam dashed toward the flipping woman, his timing just right as he grabbed her heel and began to spin around. He slammed her head into the railing and support beams, splintering the wood and sending shards flying everywhere. Refusing to let go, Sam then yanked her backward, grabbing her by the neck and slamming her face first into the ground.

Santana helped Sebastian off the floor, not that he needed it. The pair quickly pounced on the succubus, the three vampires struggling to hold her down as she flailed about. "Get off me you walking corpses!" she screamed.

Back on the first floor, Mike and Tina had shifted their entire bodies into animal form—Tina into a tiger and Mike into a wolf. They bit and tore at the soldiers, ripping into their protective gear and digging into flesh. Men screamed and howled as they were being torn apart viciously. Necks snapped, hands and legs were torn from joints and tossed aside. Blood flowed and sprayed freely, but didn't stop the assault of the shifted humans.

Kurt had resorted to using the butt of his rifle as a club, smacking a guard in the head, throwing the man off balance. The guard tried to grab the gun but missed, his arm being the next target of the swinging weapon. The guard yelled loudly, attempting to block the blow, but failing. To his advantage however, the rifle cracked at the heavy impact against his armor, leaving Kurt unarmed for the moment.

Mercedes was having less luck as three guards surrounded her, one actually holding on to the barrel of her assault rifle, trying to wrench it from her death grip. She fired the weapon, tearing holes through the man's armor from the force of point blank range shooting. His spine cracked and splintered out of his back, leaving a large bone sticking out of his vest. Another jumped on her back, his arms around her throat trying to take her to the ground. The third had a combat knife, which he was aiming for her side.

"No!" Blaine yelled, conjuring up a flame that he launched at the knife wielding man, catching his uniform on fire. The man yelled in agony as his entire body caught ablaze at the small flame. Off guard, Blaine was wrestled to the ground by a pair of soldiers, holding his hands behind his back and keeping him face down on the ground. The shock of the igniting man startled the guard choking Mercedes. He loosened his grip enough for her to elbow him off of her.

Kitty stopped flipping at the top of one of the staircases, turning just long enough to blow a kiss at her opponents before running off. She wasn't moving quite as fast as usual—Sam had obviously injured her ankle just enough to slow her down. He made to run after her but Sebastian stopped him.

"No, Sam, you go find Rory! Santana and I will handle her! Take the Wiccan with you; the shifters and humans have things under control down there," he ordered, peering down below. He reconsidered his words as he noted Blaine pinned to the ground and Kurt and Mercedes struggling with their fights. Kurt had re-armed himself with a 9mm magnum pistol, and was firing at a guard, missing every single shot. Mercedes had been subdued by the man who had been choking her despite her defensive efforts.

"Fine! Go!" Sam shouted. Santana had already begun pursuit before Sebastian had even spoken, determined to catch the succubus and put her in her place. Sebastian turned and dashed after her at top speed, not wanting to be left behind.

Sam jumped down to the first floor, ripped the guard from Mercedes' back and shoved the guard holding Blaine down onto his back and then called to the recovering Mercedes. "Gun!" She got up quickly and threw the gun at him, not even realizing that she was doing it. He caught it in midair, twirled it around in one hand, aimed the barrel at the soldier and fired. Another shot at point blank range and the soldier's head exploded in his helmet.

"Thanks," Blaine huffed as Sam yanked him up off of the floor. He paused long enough to look around at the action. The ignited soldier had 'gone out' and was only a husk of a corpse on the marble floor. The man Mercedes had shot was in a heap against the side of the staircase, and Kurt had apparently knocked one of the guards unconscious. Sam noticed this as well and in a flash, snapped the man's neck. The crack caused all three humans to wince.

"Sorry, but this is war. They are the enemy. They won't hesitate to kill you, so kill them first, got it?" Sam said, looking both Mercedes and Kurt in the eyes alternatively. "I mean it. It's you or them. Rory would rather have you both. Handle things." He knew in his heart however that both humans would be struggling with the idea of killing another living being, but they had insisted on coming and that was their cross to bear. They would have to figure out their issues with it later.

Mercedes nodded apprehensively and Kurt managed to utter a quiet agreement. "Come on, you're with me," Sam turned to Blaine. "I have no idea where he is, so we'll just start looking. Those doors up there are a good start." Blaine nodded and followed Sam up the stairs. Sam kicked in the remaining pieces of the doors, more wood splintering inward.

Behind the door was what looked like an endless hallway, doors on each side. "Shit, this is gonna take forever. If they're locked, blast them in," Sam directed, stepping into the hall, Blaine behind him. "Dammit why can't I sense him!?" He didn't get two steps before his head began to scream like a siren, causing him to drop to his knees and throw his hands over his head as he yelled.

"Sam! What's wrong?!" Blaine cried, kneeling down next to him. Sam grimaced and looked up at him.

"I… I can sense him now! I haven't been able to until now. I can  _feel_  him, and he's in pain," Sam answered, his eyes glowing with anger. "I've never felt this in my head before though."

"Maybe it means he's close, or he's calling out to you. Can he even do that?"

Sam struggled to stand back up, his head throbbing. "I have no idea. None of us really know the extent of his abilities." He grunted again and put his fingers to his temples, massaging them. "This has got to stop or I won't even be able to function!"

"Power through it," Blaine ordered, standing back up. Sam looked at him with a frustrated glare. "That's what you'd tell any of us to do. Deal with it. We have a job to do. It's Rory that matters. I'm right, aren't I?"

Sam chuckled even though his brain felt like it might explode. "You're right. Let's start checking doors, fast."

-ooo-

Ryder had managed to get Rory down from the wall and carefully set him on the floor. He gave him the gentle kiss he had given once before, easing the pain. Ryder then began cleaning him up, wiping the wounds with gauze and disinfectant. He had to hurry because he knew the shudder and loud noise they experienced were most likely signs of a rescue, and Rory needed to be ready to escape.

The incubus didn't have time to dress every wound, so he did what he could with the largest – deep gashes across the boy's wrist and both of his palms –and then a bandage that wrapped around his torso and across his shoulder. Another deep cut on Rory's inner thigh and a long cut on his shin were the other two he wrapped up before he hurriedly, yet carefully, pulled the teen's clothes back on. He didn't bother putting the t-shirt back on, but simply pulled the button down shirt on his arms and buttoned a few buttons. He wrestled the jeans on and was tempted to forgo the shoes, but decided he may need them.

Tears streaming freely down the sides of both of their faces, Ryder hefted the leprechaun onto his back, reaching behind him and holding him up by his rear, Rory's arms draped across Ryder's shoulders. Thankfully Ryder had enhanced strength, so it wasn't too much of a struggle holding Rory's weight. He started to ascend the stairwell, trying not to lose his balance, but almost tripping as he heard what sounded like fighting coming from above.

-ooo-

"You'd better run you cunt! When I catch you, I'll tear you apart!" Santana screamed as she chased Kitty. The succubus had ducked into a side room and there were so many doors, staircases, and random pieces of furniture that it was easy for Santana to lose her.

Suddenly, before she could locate the succubus, Santana felt herself falling forward and barely managed to brace herself with her hands. She looked back to find Sebastian wrestling with Kitty, who had kicked the younger vampire in the back and was about to assault her. Kitty was thrashing about, attempting to break his hold on her.

"Thanks, Seb," the Hispanic woman said with a grin. "Now for you," she addressed the blonde woman. "I hope you made your peace with the devil, bitch!" She lunged forward and wrapped her hands around the other woman's throat and squeezed, trying to cut off her air supply. When Santana leaned down to attempt to bite her neck, Kitty took advantage of the position and tore herself free, shoving both vampires backward.

"I think not. I beat you before, I'll do it again," Kitty teased. Recovering from her injury, she seemed to regain her speed, slipping behind Sebastian and grabbing his arm. In a motion that couldn't be seen by the naked eye, she managed to wrench his arm around, a loud crack filling their ears as the bones dislocated.

Sebastian howled in pain and anger, falling to his knees and grabbing his arm with his free hand. He swore vociferously at the woman, pure rage filling his eyes. Santana began to lunge for her again but Kitty jumped out of the way, the vampire landing atop her maker in a heap. Sebastian swore some more, shoving Santana off of him. She didn't apologize but instead got back on her feet, her eyes searching for her target.

"Come and get me Bloody Mary!" Kitty taunted, running off again. Needing no further encouragement, Santana took off at top speed in the direction of the succubus.

-ooo-

Tina clapped her hands together, brushing the dirt off of her palms as she surveyed the hall. She and Mike had effectively put an end to the soldiers that Mercedes and Kurt had not defeated themselves. Blood was splattered everywhere – across the walls, the floor, even the tapestries and decor. It looked like blood-filled water balloons had popped all over the place. All four of them were covered in the gore, their faces looking as if they were wearing war paint.

"So now what?" Kurt asked, feeling a little braver and much more energized. His partially successful altercations seemed to have given him some sort of renewed spirit and he didn't even notice that his two friends were still nude, albeit streaked with crimson.

Everyone turned to Mike, the de facto leader of the foursome. "Sam went through the door up there, Sebastian and Santana went right, so we go left. I'll take the lead, Kurt and Mercedes next, and Tina brings up the rear. Stay on your toes, guys. We don't know how many more are around here," he instructed.

"Are you two okay? I mean, this is new territory here. Can you handle these fights?" Tina asked, worried. "This is life and death, defending yourselves isn't wrong," she added. She spoke as if she and her boyfriend had been prepared themselves for the ensuing splatterfest, but in truth both of them were just as bothered by the slaughtering. Fortunately for them, it was in their nature to separate the ideals of murder versus survival.

"I'm fine. I have no idea where this bravado came from but I'm going with it," Kurt answered confidently.

Mercedes didn't look quite so sure. "This is insane. We're killing  _people._  Humans," she said, looking sickly. "I killed a man! I shot him and blew out his spine!"

Mike spoke up before Tina could. "You signed up for this. All of us did. Nobody said this was going to be a cakewalk. You're in the middle of it now, Mercedes. I don't take pleasure in killing  _anyone_  but this is self-defense, and this is a rescue mission. These people have hurt your friend, and we're here to stop it. If you focus on that, you can get through this."

"You always sound so inspirational," Tina praised with a smile. "He's right though. Rory is our friend. We're defending him as well as ourselves. This isn't murder." She regarded Mercedes carefully; the darker woman still didn't seem to be on board with the situation. "Look, if you truly can't do this, at least try and knock them out, okay? Let the rest of us do the dirty work. If you can help us incapacitate, we can do the deed we have to do. We're all gonna need therapy after this anyway. We can have group, now let's get moving."

Mercedes hesitated before looking up at Tina and Mike. "Alright, I can do that I think," she said. "I don't know what I thought this was gonna be, but not this. I'm sorry," she went on. Kurt hugged her, kissing her on the cheek. "I can't believe what I'm—we're doing."

"This is hopefully gonna seem like a bad nightmare when it's over. Me and you will walk through the aftermath together, okay?" Kurt offered. He sounded confident, but he would come off of his adrenaline high at some point and feel the crash of emotions she was already struggling with.

The heavyset woman couldn't help but laugh. "I never figured you would be so willing to jump into this insanity, Kurt Hummel, but you're full of surprises. As long as I can deal with the trauma with you, I think I can do this."

"Good, because I don't think I wanna be the only one who went crazy around here," the teenaged boy replied.

"We need to get moving. I'm sorry if I seem harsh, but we don't have a lot of time," Mike reminded them. "Let's go."

After Mercedes received another hug from Kurt and they exchanged silent reassurance, the four of them went up the stairs in the exact order Mike had specified and began to make their way down the left hallway.

-ooo-

Ryder stepped through the final sliding door, expecting to see Rachel sitting on her throne, but there was no one in the room at all. Relieved, he set Rory down against the wall, taking a momentary break. Despite his enhanced strength, he had been tired to begin with, and Rory was larger than some grown adults, being, the same size as Ryder. He leaned against the wall himself, taking several deep breaths.

"R-Ryder?" came Rory's very soft, very exhausted voice. His eyes were only half open, and he was breathing shallowly. "Where… What's… Ryder?"

The incubus knelt down and gingerly took the boy's hand in his own, being cautious not to squeeze too hard. "I'm right here. We're in the throne room. I was carrying you back to your room but I needed to take a breather."

"Why… everything feels so… weird… numb and light at the same time," Rory wheezed. "I feel so weak. I… I don't e'en know where I am. It's all spinning. Me head is spinning."

Ryder gulped. "Rachel… she took a lot of your blood. Probably about a third. Maybe a little bit less. You were bleeding a lot, so I did my best to patch you up. You're still hurt really bad, but I used my influence on you to ease the pain. You're incredibly disoriented. I just told you we were in the throne room," he explained. "I have got to get you to safety. It sounds like something major is going on out there and I want to make sure you survive."

"Thank ye'," the teen said breathlessly. He looked down at his arms and legs, which while bandaged under his clothes, were still stained. His injuries were still bleeding through the gauze. He brought his free hand up before his face, seeing the stained wrapping. He then touched his chest, felt wetness under his shirt. "Am I going to die?"

"No!" Ryder shouted unexpectedly. "No, you will not die," he repeated much more quietly. "She doesn't want you dead. You'll heal, but it's going to take a while. I swear I won't let you die."

Rory managed a very weak smile for the other man's benefit. "Please don't let me die, not before I see Sam again," the teen pleaded. "I can feel… I can feel meself fading…"

"Dammit, no!" Ryder shouted again. He slapped the boy across the face, pulling him out of his haze. "Sorry, but I had to. You have to get with it. You are  _not_  going to die, you  _will_  see Sam again, and somehow one of you  _will_  kill Rachel. So don't you _dare_  give up! Not now!"

Rory reached up and rubbed his cheek where Ryder had smacked him. "Ye' hit like a girl," he teased, trying to lighten things up a little. "I won't give up. But ye' 'ave to come with us. When we get out of here, ye' 'ave to come. Sam can help ye' find a way to-

Rory didn't get to finish his sentence as they were interrupted by a huge explosion. The throne room doors blasted inward and several of the mirrors shattered. When the dust cleared, standing in the opening was Sam and behind him, Blaine.

The moment Sam saw Rory on the floor, obviously in some sort of pain, he let his rage loose. Whoever the man was in front of him had something to do with this, and Sam would tear him to pieces only after interrogating him thoroughly. His violent instincts as a vampire were taking over for the first time in years.

Sam rushed forward in vampire speed and grabbed the kneeling man by the throat and slammed him against the wall, the mirror behind him breaking, shards falling over them. "What have you done to him!?" the vampire demanded. Ryder had no time to answer before he was slammed against the wall a second time and then punched in the stomach. "Answer me! What did you do to him!?"

"Sam… please… stop…" Rory called weakly.

Sam didn't hear him as the rage was still running high. Ryder was beginning to turn blue in the face as Sam's grip was cutting off his air. Ryder clawed at the fist around him, but Ryder refused to fight back. He was trying to rasp something out, but it was no use.

Rory leaned over the best he could manage and summoned a dim burst of light, sending it flying at his boyfriend. The projectile hit, but only startled Sam. It wasn't strong enough to do anything else, but it got his attention as Rory had hoped. Sam looked over at him, meeting eyes with the boy.

"What has this man done to you?" the vampire demanded. "What did he do?" Bloody tears were beginning to form in his eyes, rage starting to be overcome by fear. "Tell me what he did!"

"He… he helped me…" the teen wheezed. "He helped me. Let… let him go."

Sam wasn't expecting that. He released Ryder, who dropped to the floor on his hands and knees, gasping for air, the color returning to his face. The vampire turned his full attention to his boyfriend, kneeling down beside him. "Wait, what happened?" he asked gently. He took the boy's hand in his, the smell of his blood sweet in his nose. The last thing he felt, however, was thirst.

"The banshee… Rachel, she… she did horrible things, but Ryder, he helped me," Rory said softly. "He's a good man."

"Are you sure? He hasn't played with your mind has he?" Sam asked, sniffling and wiping away a tear from his cheek, leaving a red smudge.

The leprechaun shook his head. "No. He's good. He's a slave. We 'ave to help him too," he said.

Sam looked back at the other man, eyeing him. He then looked over at Blaine, who was guarding the doorway. He nodded, asking Blaine to join them. "Can you heal him with your magic?"

Blaine knelt down and gave Rory a cursory once over. "No, I don't think I can. Not this kind of thing. Definitely not as inexperienced as I am."

"You can't try?" Sam urged, blinking away another tear.

"I might end up making it worse. I'm sorry," Blaine replied. He, too, had tears welling up in his eyes at the sight of his friend. "I can definitely cause his captors some pain though, and in the meantime, offer some bit of protection." Without waiting for an order, Blaine quickly conjured up his curtain of energy that he had used back at the Evans home.

Sam looked around from Blaine, who was busy with his spell, to Ryder, and finally to Rory. He made his decision. He bit his wrist and placed it before the ailing boy. "Drink," he ordered sternly.

Rory kept his mouth shut aside from muttering a firm no. He knew that while Sam's blood would indeed help, weakening his savior was not the best idea at the moment. Sam would need all of strength to fight and if he were suffering severe blood loss, Rachel, or even Kitty, would tear through him like tissue paper.

"I didn't ask! I said drink, Rory! You need my blood to heal. I can see and smell the blood all over you. You're in bad shape." He pressed his wrist up against the boy's lips, using his other hand on the back of Rory's head, urging him to imbibe. "Come on, drink dammit!"

Staring Sam in the eyes, seeing the bloody tears flowing freely, feeling himself fading again, Rory knew he had to do what Sam was ordering. He parted his lips and began to suck the open wound on his boyfriend's wrist. He gripped Sam's arm with both hands, keeping it still as he began to greedily drink, drawing out the healing blood. He closed his eyes, not seeing the pained look on Sam's face.

"Are you going to be okay? This is gonna weaken you," Blaine whispered in the vampire's ear.

Sam didn't answer verbally but simply stared into Blaine's eyes. The determination and confidence in the man's eyes told Blaine everything he needed to know: Sam didn't care if it killed him as long as Rory was all right.

The vampire could sense that it was time for Rory to stop. Sam was weakening quite a bit, and if the boy continued to draw the life-giving liquid, it would leave Sam in a dangerously vulnerable state. He tried to pull his wrist away but Rory held on tight. Feeling weaker and not wanting to hurt his boyfriend, he struggled halfheartedly.

Worried, Blaine reached forward and pulled on Sam's arm, prying Rory's fingers away. The younger teen was licking his lips as his source was taken away from him. It was then that he opened his eyes again and began to feel less hazy and more like he was alive.

Sam was now paler than usual, but he was still able to stand on his own. He shook his head, collecting himself. "Ryder, right?" he asked, looking at the incubus. "I need your help with him. We have to get out of here and I need you to steady him. He isn't ready to be on his own two feet by himself. Blaine and I can clear the way if necessary."

Reluctant to believe that Sam was in any condition to fight, Ryder agreed nonetheless. He stooped down and helped his friend onto his feet, pulling Rory's arm around his neck. Rory wobbled, the injuries to his legs not yet having healed enough. Realizing this, Ryder repositioned him so that Rory was once again on his back.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going with  _that_!?" screeched a female voice. It was Kitty, standing in the destroyed doorway, one hand on her hip, the other gripping a seemingly unconscious Santana by the neck, dragging her along.

"Santana!" Sam shouted, alarmed at the woman's incapacitated state. It was then he noticed that Santana managed to move her head ever so slightly. She was down but not out.

"I'm not done yet," Santana croaked, grabbing Kitty by the arm. The alarmed succubus released her grip and screamed as she looked down and saw the pure rage in Santana's eyes. The vampiress clawed her way up Kitty's arm with one hand, the other clawing against the woman's chest. Streaks of red burst into view as Santana's incredibly sharp nails ripped open not only Kitty's clothing but her flesh as well. Kitty screamed in pain, the attack happening so fast that she barely had time to react.

"Fucking cunt!" Kitty yelled, finally wrestling her now shredded arm from the vampiress' claws. She gripped Santana's arms and threw her weight, shrugging the angry vampire from her body. Santana fell facedown in a heap on the floor, exhausted from her adrenaline-fueled attack. She managed to look up and see the succubus screeching at her wounds, trembling with her own ferocious emotions. Satisfied she had weakened her foe, Sebastian's progeny let herself pass out.

Sam, Rory, and Blaine had watched on in stunned surprise as their associate went into a crazed frenzy on their enemy, everything happening in vampire speed. Within seconds, Santana was knocked out, Kitty standing before them badly wounded.

Ryder gently eased Rory down, letting the boy stand on his own. "Impressive," he stated with a grin, his eyes going from Santana back to Kitty. He took several steps forward, still a 'safe' distance from his adversary. "How does it feel, Kitty? How does it feel to experience pain? To get your ass kicked a little bit?"

"Shut up you fucking faggot!" Kitty bellowed. It was a hypocritical insult, her own sexuality fluid, but she knew the word would strike Ryder just right.

Kitty was wrong.

"Clever. No, really. All these centuries and the best you can come up with is 'faggot'?" the incubus taunted. "I'm disappointed." He was feeling cocky for once; elated at seeing Kitty finally taking critical attacks.

Kitty's eyes turned a deep red, matching the gashes on her body. "I'm going to end you, you cocky little shit!" She took a dash toward the man, her speed not up to par due to her injuries. Ryder ran at her as well, dodging to the side just in time to clothesline her. She fell on her back but quickly recovered, turning and launching herself at Ryder, wrapping her legs around his neck and throwing him.

Blaine was maintaining the shield spell around himself and Rory while Sam slowly secured Santana out of the way. He may not have liked her all that much, but she was still an ally and an asset to their group, though he would never admit the latter to her face.

Ryder wasn't ready to claim defeat just yet. He forced himself back up and ran at Kitty again. He punched her right in the stomach, his fist tearing into a laceration. He felt the flesh part further, the wetness of her blood covering his arm. The woman howled in agony, her scream rivaling Rachel's call.

Kitty fell to her hands and knees, gasping and grabbing her stomach. Despite Ryder's strength and luck of hitting her injury, he had not gone as deep as she at first thought. She was weak, but far from finished. She picked herself up, blood covering her body from the neck down.

The succubus was shaking madly, her body seeming to vibrate. She began to glow an eerie green color as she began to channel energy from somewhere.

"What is she doing?" Blaine asked openly, the constant concentration of his spell beginning to give him a headache. "I can't hold the shield and attack her at the same time, Sam. It has to be one or the other." For reasons unknown to the Wiccan, this stronger version of his barrier spell was having side-effects he hadn't expected.

"She's gathering power, but from where I don't know," Sam croaked. "Ryder has to stop her. We can't chance that barrier coming down and someone taking advantage of it."

As if on cue, Ryder ran toward the woman, but stopped short. "Kitty what are you doing!?" he cried. "You'll kill us all! Including yourself!"

"She's channeling her essence. Every soul she ever taken…" Rory said almost robotically. "I can see them all. Every single person, one after the other."

"What? How?" Blaine asked, confused. "I thought you had to touch someone to see their memories."

Sam cleared his throat before answering. "It has to be her. The power she's summoning must be doing something."

"Augmenting…" Blaine said under his breath. "Ryder said she'll kill us all. I've got to do something! I'm sorry, but I have to!" he cried. He let the shield fall to the floor and stepped forward, not even entirely sure what he intended to do.

An idea coming to mind, Blaine began to chant in Latin, his speech coming out so fast the words could not be understood even by a native speaker. He crouched down and touched the floor with two fingers, a line of flame running from his fingertips up toward Kitty and then forming a circle around her. The fire increased, flames crackling.

The spell was no use. The fire dissipated as the aura around Kitty expanded. Energy flowed back through the line of fire and pulsed into Blaine, knocking him backward. Rory managed to catch him, the two boys falling to the floor.

"I'm feeling a little better now," Rory said quietly as he picked himself up from the floor. Blaine held out his hand and helped him stand. "Blaine, put the barrier back up. It might be the only thing that saves us if she explodes or something."

"But what about Ryder?" the Wiccan asked. "We can't let him do this by himself! He needs to be behind the wall too!"

Rory cried out in pain, grabbing his head. "Oh me god! Ryder! No!" Images flashed in his head, but instead of the pages of the past, he was seeing current thoughts. Ryder's thoughts. His idea. His mission.

"I have to stop her…" Ryder said softly. "I can't let her kill Rory. Any of them." He began to walk toward the glowing succubus, feeling his energy beginning to drain. If only he could get to her. He wished he could create some sort of memory to project to Rory, some message to tell him exactly what to do. He continually focused on his mission, praying that somehow the images would transmit to his friend.

Pushing all other thoughts out of his head—his regrets, his past, Damian, everything except his plan- Ryder forced himself into Kitty's aura despite the great pain he was suffering. He wrapped his arms around her, the woman screeching in anger. His energy was all but gone, his grip weakening already. "Rory! Now!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

Tears in his eyes, Rory knew he had to do it. He didn't want to, but if he didn't they would all die. His hands began to glow the familiar gold, his body heating up. He focused with his entire mind, holding out his hands in front of him. "Blaine! The instant this hits her, put the barrier up! I don't know what might happen!" he cried. He then turned to face the incubus and the succubus. "I'm sorry…" he whispered as a bright, white flash blinded everyone in the room, the golden light bursting from the teen's outstretched hands and surging through the air, hitting Kitty and Ryder.

Rory continued to channel his power, his nose beginning to bleed as his head focused harder than ever. Finally there was an enormous explosion, blinding flashes of light, sounds louder than thunder, screams of anger, pain, and agony resonating in the air. Blaine erected his spell the instant Rory cut off his power surge, guarding them from the energy overload. Shattered glass from the mirrors flew through the air, shards reflecting off of the curtain of light.

Despite the shield, when the explosion hit the light, Sam, Blaine, and Rory were thrown back so far across the room that they hit the wall. Santana's limp body barely moved at all, still safe from the influx of energy.

The light dissipated, Kitty's glowing body no longer an aura. She lay on the ground, her body now fully covered in blood, burns, and enormous wounds. Her eyes fluttered shut as she took her final breath, her soul leaving her body and dissipating like a cloud of green mist.

Ryder lay on the floor next to her, face-down and burned, cut, and bloody. He was still breathing, albeit shallowly, and rasping loudly. Rory managed to get on his feet, torn between checking on Sam and Ryder.

"Go, go to him," Sam said softly. "See if he's…" He closed his eyes as he struggled to get up, leaning against the shattered mirror for balance. Rory took one last glance at the vampire and then ran toward where Ryder was sprawled on the floor. He had taken off so fast he forgot all about the barrier, but the impact of the blast had broken Blaine's concentration and the shield had fallen.

"Ryder! Ryder!" Rory yelled, crashing down next to the man. He turned him onto his back and was horrified by what he saw. Ryder's entire torso was scorched black with deep angry gashes crisscrossing over him. A pool of blood had already formed beneath him.

Rory pulled the man's head into his lap, gently caressing his charred cheeks. Tears ran down Rory's face, dripping onto the incubus' chest. "Ryder… Hang on! Ye're gonna be okay. Sam can heal ye'!"

"I'm dying, Rory. I'm beyond help..." Ryder croaked out. With each breath he took, searing pain surged through his body. Ribs were shattered, his spine was broken. He couldn't feel anything below his middle back, but what he did feel was excruciating. Tears streaked down his face, drawing thin lines in the blood and soot that covered him. Rory did the best he could to wipe it from the man's eyes.

"No! Ye' can't die. Ye're an incubus! That has to mean something!" Rory cried. "Doesn't it?" he added quietly, already knowing the answer. "Doesn't it!?"

Ryder gasped in agony before he answered. "Even the supernatural has its limits. I'm done, Rory. I'm done… I saved you, that's… what… matters. That's what I… what I wanted." He coughed, his entire body quaking in pain.

The leprechaun had no more words for his friend. All along, Ryder had made it clear he intended to protect him, and he had. Right until the very end. Swallowing back another cry, Rory closed his eyes and began to focus. The memory he was searching for was at the surface of Ryder's mind, just where he had put it earlier. He drew it forward, his nose beginning to bleed again as he channeled his ability in a way he prayed would work.

"Close your eyes," Rory whispered. The memory was invading Ryder's current thoughts, taking on a form of it's own, controlled by Rory and overriding all sense of reality.

"Damian… oh thank you, Damian. My love…" Ryder said softly, his lips turning up in a faint smile. In his mind, Damian was standing over him, taking care of the incubus as he lay in a bed, injured.

"Ryder… Ye' can come with me now," Rory said, praying as he worked his ability beyond his known limits. "Ye're fading, but ye' can be with me now. I can see ye'. Touch ye'r skin again."

Ryder's smile widened. He knew what Rory was doing even through the haze, and the fact the boy was putting so much effort into this last moment meant the world to him, but he knew the truth. He allowed himself to drift back into the memory.

"Oh Damian, you… you know that's… not true," Ryder said aloud, struggling. You know… I can't go with you. You're… in Heaven, and my kind… Hell is what waits for me," he added.

"No, ye've made up for what ye've done. Ye' saved another human life; ye' sacrificed ye'rself. Ye'll join me here," Rory, as Damian, insisted. His tears were flowing stronger, soaking into the tattered shirt of his friend.

Ryder smiled again and managed to lift his arm. He caressed the side of Rory's face with the back of his hand. "A pleasant lie, that. Thank you," he said quietly. His breathing was slowing immensely, his body turning colder by the second. Rory could feel the life disappearing from his friend's body. Rory couldn't hear Ryder's final words of appreciation, another 'thank you', but he understood anyway as Ryder's memories faded. If the memories Rory could see in someone's head were a picture book, then this book was closing and the lights going out. He tried to pull back the images, to draw forward the memories, but there was nothing there. It was a void. A void that oddly sent shivers through the teen's body. Ryder was gone.

"No!" Rory shouted at the top of his lungs until his throat was sore. He sobbed uncontrollably, pulling the dead man's body toward him, hugging him tightly. He needn't worry about hurting him and Rory needed to hold him one last time.

Sam and Blaine watched the scene from the wall, allowing the teen his privacy. Sam had no idea what was going on between the two, but he trusted that Rory would explain it to him. He knew the boy wouldn't stray from him, but Ryder still must have been someone special. Blood ran from Sam's eyes as he watched the demon fade away to death, his boyfriend embracing the man and crying.

Blaine took Sam's hand, the vampire not expecting the touch. He didn't protest however. Blaine led him toward the despairing leprechaun, knowing that what Rory needed right at that moment was his other half.

Sam knelt down next to his boyfriend and draped an arm over the boy's shoulder. Rory gently laid the body of his friend back down onto the floor and then allowed himself to be drawn into Sam's arms, burying his face in the vampire's chest, his body wracking with sobs.

Blaine stood above the man and began to chant in Latin mixed with English, offering some sort of Wiccan prayer. He wished Ryder a safe journey to his destination, prayed that the gods would show him mercy. Sam looked up at him, his face still streaked with bloody tears, his eyes pleading. He knew there was no coming back from the dead. Not in this fashion. Ryder was gone and Rory was sad, and there was nothing Sam could do about it. He couldn't even pretend to understand what was going on, but he knew Rory needed him more than anything right then.

-ooo-

Rachel sat on her bed, deliberating. She knew that with the dosage of leprechaun blood she had ingested, she should be like a god, completely unstoppable. What worried her was the fact that she really didn't know  _everything_  it did to her. She knew it enhanced her latent abilities, and she knew it prolonged her life, but she had no idea what other effects it could have. Centuries of research hadn't amounted to much when it came to that. Even more worrisome was that she still wasn't feeling any physical changes to herself.

Suddenly she reeled back on her bed in pain, her head exploding with fire. For a moment she actually thought she might be dying, that the blood was having a negative effect on her body, but then images started flowing into her mind. Her visions of death never came to her this way; this was something different.

"What the hell…" she said to herself. She pressed on her temples, sitting back upright, closing her eyes. She saw something most distressing appear in her head: Kitty, standing in the middle of the throne room. She was glowing with a bright green aura, several people looking on. Ryder was on one side of her, Rory and his friends on the other. They were shouting something to each other, and then Ryder dashed forward and tackled Kitty. He shouted something else and then Rory began to glow too before sending out an impressive surge of his own power.

Rachel then saw the explosion she had felt minutes earlier, bright flashes distorting the memories. When it cleared again, the leprechaun and his friends were against the far wall, appearing to be stunned, but not incapacitated. What she did not see was Ryder. Instead she saw a large heap on the floor, looking like smoldering ash and char.

The last image to flash in her head was of Rory, knelt down next to the burnt remains of what she deduced to be Ryder. They were having a conversation and then the incubus went stiff and died. Rachel couldn't help but smile at the pain the leprechaun was experiencing at the loss of his caretaker. She could see him crying, could see the vampire, Sam, embrace him as he sobbed. He felt true and utter despair over this creature and it made her tingle in her loins, the pain in her head completely gone.

The loss of Kitty was more upsetting, but the banshee refused to let her emotions prevail over her better sense. Kitty had been her right-hand woman, and in many ways a lover. The succubus had been a powerful fighter, the best bodyguard she could ask for. Rachel would miss Kitty immensely, but on the plus side, she no longer needed the protection of the woman.

Keeping her face stoic, Rachel stood, her silk dress billowing as she glided to the door. Ready or not, she had work to do. "It's time to see exactly what I'm made of," she said aloud.  _I'll recapture the fae and force him to watch as I torture and kill each and every one of his friends. I'll draw it out for years, make them suffer worse than I ever have anyone else. I will fill his heart with such despair; he will be mine, no more questions asked._

-ooo-

Sam glanced at Blaine, both of them silently acknowledging they needed to get moving. Ryder was dead, and Rory was grieving for the loss of a friend, but they had no choice but to get to safety, otherwise Ryder's death was fruitless. Blaine went about the task of trying to rouse Santana while Sam tended to his fretting boyfriend.

Rory pulled back from Sam's chest, sniffling and wiping the tears from his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'll explain e'erything later, I promise. I just… I can't right now."

Sam smiled softly, caressing the boy's cheek. "Right now we need to get the others and get out of here," he said. His voice was gentle yet commanding. "Mike, Tina, Mercedes, and Kurt are all here. Sebastian too. We have to get them and get out before-"

"Before I show up?" tittered a high-pitched, yet regal, voice. Her words seemed to flow from her mouth like a song. "You shouldn't have wasted so much time crying over that… thing," she taunted, looking toward Rory and the deceased. Both Rory and Sam stood up, watching her intently as she came through a sliding door at the back of the room.

"Ryder is not a  _thing_!" the leprechaun bellowed angrily. "How dare ye'!" Without thinking, he threw his arm out, a short burst of golden light shooting toward Rachel. Rachel opened her mouth and let out a shriek that was so shrill it was like a dog whistle. Rory and Blaine couldn't hear it, but Sam could due to his enhanced hearing. He covered his ears, grunting and falling to his knee. The light dissipated in the sound waves, Sam still in agony, Santana joining him as she awoke to a very unpleasant noise.

The banshee then pursed her lips and blew a stream of air that knocked all four of her adversaries back down to the ground. "Is that the best you can do? Some light show and angry words? Surely this isn't all that challenges me," she teased with a laugh.

Blaine muttered some Latin and touched the ground, repeating his fire spell. Flames appeared at Rachel's feet but she didn't even bother to react aside from rolling her eyes. She made a sharp, quick whistle, all three of the men and the vampiress covering their ears. The fire faded as soon as Blaine's fingers lost contact with the floor.

"This is tired. Vampire, what have you for me?" she asked, turning her attention to Sam.

Sam knew he was no match for Rachel, even without her overdose of leprechaun blood. He had yet to recover from Rory's draining. His strength was weak; his speed wasn't up to par. There was no way he could take her. Santana was in the same condition – in no state to fight after Kitty's thrashing. "Nothing. I have nothing," he finally admitted.

"Nothing? You break into my home, steal my leprechaun, and don't even have anything to fight back with?" Rachel cackled. "How insulting and pathetic. The least you could do is put up a decent challenge. Instead you have nothing!"

"He said  _he_  didn't have anything. He didn't say  _I_ didn't!" They heard a familiar voice coming from behind them. Sebastian. The sheriff dashed at top speed toward the woman, intent on jumping at her, but she let out a wail that sent him flailing backward.

"You fucking bitch!" Sebastian screeched angrily, losing all sense of haughtiness. "I'll kill you!"

Rachel snickered. "Really? Not if that's the best you can muster," she said, her lips turning up in a cruel smile. "I was actually hoping for a little fun of some sort. I get kind of bored around here you know."

The banshee sighed and rolled her eyes again, annoyed. "Oh well," she said, throwing her arms in the air. "I guess I may as well get this over with. Just so you know, I have no intention of killing you here. I want my leprechaun alive, and I have a special treat for you all, so you'll be leaving here tonight and visiting a special place I have for you."

"Oh would you just shut the fuck up!?" Santana blasted back at her. "Do you realize you sound like every lame villain in history? 'Get this over with?' 'I have a special treat?' Oh and my favorite so far, 'a special place I have for you.' What next, 'I would have gotten away with it too if it weren't for those pesky kids and their leprechaun?' Get some new lines," she taunted. She knew it was stupid to antagonize her, but if she was going to die or at the very least become a tortured prisoner, she was going to make sure she got in a few quips on the way out.

"Santana, survived and sassy as ever, I see. Good, I hate to think I would be without my baby girl," Sebastian noted, grinning at his very-injured progeny.

"You're pretty stupid to make jibes at me. You're already dead, halfway to the true death as it stands now, and then you make insults. Good choice for a progeny, sheriff," Rachel bit back. Before Sebastian or Santana could return her snide comments, all five of Rachel's foes were reduced to writhing around on the floor, holding their ears and screaming. The sound from Rachel's lungs tore searing pain into their heads, giving all of them severe headaches. The vibrations against their flesh didn't help, either. It was like they were being shaken to death.

Rachel stopped screaming. "See how easy it is for me to make you all suffer? To reduce you to nothing but whining babies, rolling about on my floor? You think for five minutes that you are some challenge to me, when I have the power of a god?"

"Just wait until that leprechaun blood wears off," Sebastian hissed. "You won't be a god anymore! You'll never be a god as long as you have that weakness you pompous ass!"

"I don't need that blood to take you on. I can kill each and every one of you all by myself," the woman taunted. "If I really was afraid of you, don't you think security might have been a little tighter? Instead a nice missile launch at your airplane, a lackluster 'army' to greet you. There wasn't any need to waste any more energy than that. You did kill my Kitty though, and that was a great loss. No matter, your suffering will make up for it."

At this point, Rachel was merely talking out of her rear. It wasn't that she didn't want to have security; it was more that she didn't  _have_  more security. Despite living for centuries, she had a limited number of beings under her command, two of her most powerful of which were now dead. The only other person she had on her side who stood even half a chance couldn't even stand. Artie, confined to his wheelchair, wasn't even anywhere in sight. In fact, she hadn't seen him since he sent the missile launch. Oh well, she didn't  _need_  him.

His head pounding, Sam looked up at the woman with not only a gaze of hatred, but also one of curiosity. "Rachel, before anything else goes down, answer a question," he stated.

"A question? For me? Yes, vampire?"

"What's the point of all this? I mean, yeah you want his blood so you live longer and have more power, but why are you so hell-bent on killing people and torturing them and making people suffer? Isn't your purpose simply to give the warning of death?" he asked, not the least bit of sarcasm or attitude in his voice.

Rachel cocked her head, intrigued by this new angle. Before she could answer, however, another voice echoed in the room.

"It's because she's insane," a slightly nasal voice stated as its owner appeared. It was a man, sitting in a wheelchair. Artie. Rachel snapped her head back and glared at him, her eyes piercing through him. "That's right, Rachel. You're insane. The thing is, it's not a metaphor. She is literally lacking her sanity."

"Explain yourself you ungrateful fool!" the banshee screamed.

Artie removed his glasses and cleaned them with a handkerchief, taking his time in answering. "You see, most banshee's don't live past a couple centuries. Their task of announcing death begins to drain on their sanity. They become depressed, alone. They become isolated from society. No other beings want to be around her for fear of the death wail. A banshee can either announce the call from a vision, or she can even make a call of her own, but either way she does nothing but bring forth death."

Rachel rolled her eyes and huffed. "I think we are all well aware of what a banshee does in her lifetime, Arthur," she said sarcastically.

"My story doesn't end, mistress. You forget, I have been with you for over half of my lifetime. I have seen your mind deteriorate. I have seen the loneliness consume you. The depression, isolation. You wanted nothing more than to experience love of another, and you could never have it. You still can't and not even all the leprechaun blood in the world can change that fact."

"N-Nonsense," Rachel said, her voice not quite as confident as it had been thus far.

"If you don't mind, I will continue," Artie stated. "The loneliness turned into jealousy of humans and other beings who could experience love. That jealousy turned to anger and hatred."

"Sounds like Yoda and  _Star_   _Wars_ ," Sam observed. He got odd looks from everyone else. "What? I like sci-fi," he added. It was the most casual moment any of them had experienced in the past week and would have elicited laughs had they not been in such dire circumstances.

Ignoring the interruption, Artie went on. "It's at that point that many banshees commit suicide. Not Rachel. She kept wanting. And wanting. It was a determination that was built inside of her. When she finally understood that she could never experience interaction without death, she decided she would just allow herself to be consumed by the hatred and jealousy. It turned her into this," Artie concluded, waving his hand toward his mistress.

"Wow, so you really did become insane with negative emotions," Sam said, awed. "If you were so miserable, why seek blood to make your life longer? Wouldn't you  _want_  to die?"

Rachel seethed. "No! I didn't want to die! I wanted to… I wanted to change things." It was the first time the woman had appeared genuinely disturbed in front of any of them.

Five people stared at her, confused.

"I thought that perhaps if I could gain more power, I could have control over this call of death. Maybe I could finally have what I wanted."

"The thing is, over the centuries her insanity drove her to enjoy hurting people. Torturing them, killing them, manipulating them. Even now if she got what she wanted—a lover—she would be so fixated on the suffering of others that it would destroy any love she could have. This woman can no longer experience love and affection," Artie stated, raising his eyebrows and smirking as he pointed his finger directly at her.

Rachel screamed in anger. "How dare you! You disgusting piece of shit!" she screeched, pointing at her servant. "I trusted you over the years and you betray my secrets! You betray my trust!"

"No more than you betrayed mine, mistress. You promised me the ability to walk once again. I've known for three centuries now that it's impossible to make that happen. Don't you remember, when the accident occurred I drank an entire vampire and it had no effect? Yet I still held out hope all these years. I hoped the blood of a fae would allow me to walk again. You swore to me during my entire servitude that you would restore me, yet  _who_ was it that got to partake of your prize? The succubus. I came to your chambers to  _beg_ for my chance, and you denied me so much as a drop, yet you gave  _Kitty,_ a lackluster succubus who ultimately failed you a drink from your treasure. It was the last straw, your betrayal."

"No more!" the banshee shouted. She pursed her lips and blew a stream of air at him, knocking him out of his chair and sprawling onto the floor. She then began to stroll over to him, bending down and taking him by the throat, lifting him before her. "I think I'll kill you now before I move on to my plans with the others. I don't tolerate-"

The woman's words were cut off and replaced with a howl of pain. Light was flashing behind her and an unbearable heat burned into her back. She twisted around, dropping the invalid on the ground. Rory was kneeling on the floor, his arms extended and sending a surge of light toward her.

Angry, Rachel let out a howl that once again knocked over her adversaries, but Rory didn't let up. Despite falling back on his side, he continued to send pulses of light at the woman, forcing himself back up on his knees. Rachel continued to scream, but in agony rather than attack. The beam hit her square in the chest, burning through her dress and seeping into her flesh. She began to smoke, but no blood came forth.

The beam suddenly struck upward, smashing her in the face before hitting the ceiling and then stopping altogether. Rory gasped, let out a deep breath, dropped his hands to his sides, and then fell flat on his face. As he fell, the blade that had been thrust into his back slid out. No one had seen Artie crawl around and come up behind him in accelerated speed.

"No!" Tina screamed. She and the others had come in the door just as Artie's surprise attack had happened. Mercedes attempted to scream herself, but no sound came out. Kurt stumbled and then fainted, Mike catching him. All four of them were looking rather rough, and seeing their friend attacked and killed didn't help matters.

Rachel stopped screaming the moment the heat stopped in her chest. She dropped to her knees, gasping and holding her chest with one hand.

"Now I can have my chance… This boy's blood is mine to drink," Artie said, a grin forming on his face. "Once he is dead, there will be no more blood for you, either, mistress. You will never have the power you crave, mistress," Artie announced triumphantly.

"And neither will you," Sebastian stated simply, grasping Artie's head and twisting, snapping his neck. The man's body went limp immediately. Sebastian let go, allowing him to fall in a heap on his face.

Sam was already by Rory's side, bloody tears freely flowing. He didn't dare move the teen for fear of paralysis. The boy had turned his head to the side, his eyes looking at Sam pleadingly. His breathing was already shallow, blood dripping from his lips.

Sebastian and Santana rushed toward the banshee, but the woman looked up just in time to send them reeling backward with a well timed, albeit weak, screech. Mike was holding the unconscious Kurt in his arms and Tina was sobbing to the point of hyperventilating. She wanted to do something but after seeing the vampires so easily knocked back, she felt useless. Mercedes still couldn't speak; she simply stood there, her mouth agape, salty tears staining her dark cheeks. Blaine had turned pale, moments from vomiting.

"No! No, no, no, no!" Sam cried. "I can't even hold him!"

"It's okay," Rory whispered. "Just hold me hand," he added, his eyes half closed, a complacent look on his face. Sam obliged him, grasping his hand and squeezing just hard enough so as not to hurt him.

Rachel was still reeling on the floor, tears of her own dripping to the carpet. She craned her neck up, seeing the scene before her once more, the reality settling with her. "No…" she said softly. "No… my leprechaun…" She spidered over to the crowd, stopping directly in front of Rory. "No, not my leprechaun… he killed him!" she screeched in anger.

"Where is the traitorous bastard?" the banshee demanded. "Where is he!?"

"Right there," Sebastian stated, pointing behind them. "He's quite dead, however." He spoke with a confidence and calmness he did not truly feel. He had never been good at handling the feeling of despair, and at the moment he forced himself not to focus on the aching in his heart.

"Give him to me," the woman hissed. "Give him to me!" she repeated, yelling loudly. Sebastian nodded his head and dragged the corpse to the banshee, leaving him in a heap. She took the man by the neck and forced his dead face to look at her. She was seething. Her eyes were redder than ever before. Carefully, she turned his head to the side and moved her mouth merely an inch next to his ear.

"He's dead. It's not like he's coming back," Sebastian said sarcastically, watching her intently, his eyes searching for the perfect moment to subdue her.

"I'll make sure of that," she whispered. Preparing to hear the wail of death, several of the crowd covered their ears, but the call she made was so high pitched, so shrill, that not even the vampires could hear it. Only the vibrations of Artie's head made any indication that anything was happening. His glasses shattered, his eyes bulged and then burst, white and red mush splattering to the ground. Blood ran from his nostrils and ears, out of the now-empty sockets of his eyes. Brain matter, bone, and gore exploded into the air as Rachel's scream destroyed the dead man's skull.

Blaine finally did vomit, facing away from the others and retching. Mercedes turned pale herself, her dark skin turning more of a gray. She dropped to one knee and covered her mouth, closing her eyes and fighting back the urge to throw up as well. She lost and had to turn away, decorating the floor behind her. Tina stood in a state of shock and horror, the image surreal, and Mike closed his eyes, turning his head away and swallowing back bile. Sebastian and Santana showed no reaction, being used to seeing the worst of destruction of a body. Rory didn't see anything but felt something splat on his backside. He didn't want to know what it was. Sam was far too engrossed in his dying boyfriend to pay any notice to the violence.

"He will never rise again, not even with the strongest resurrection spell," Rachel stated. "He killed my leprechaun. After centuries of searching, it's all for naught. The last one is dead. Useless."

"What did you say?" Sam growled, looking up at the woman. Sebastian bit back a grin as he knew exactly what was about to happen and that his services were not going to be required.

"I said-" the banshee began, but was knocked backward. Sam had pounced on her and had already begun a barrage of punches to her face. Rachel put her hands up to defend herself, catching his fists in her hands and then shoving him off of her. She stood, surprised and angry.

"His name is Rory, you evil bitch!" Sam screamed. He swung his fist back and then connected with the banshee again, a terrible cracking sound echoing through the room as her nose broke. "He is  _not_  useless! He's worth more than you could ever hope to be!" he went on, throwing punch after punch at her between words. His speech was barely making sense to her as her head turned from one side to the other. She then felt her stomach explode in pain as he punched her abdomen. She doubled over only to meet a devastating uppercut that sent her reeling backward.

"Stop it!" she ordered, attempting to right herself. "You don't understand my pain!"

Sam paused only long enough to taunt her. " _Your_  pain? Fuck your pain! You were dealt your lot and you went insane. Your pain means nothing!  _His_  pain means everything! He's dying, because of you!" he shouted, closing the distance between her and himself.

Rachel went to wail, but her voice was cut off by the iron grip around her throat. Sam pulled her toward his face, eyes filled with rage, looking like a madman with his face stained with blood. "You can't scream if you can't breathe! All the blood in the world can't change that. You better hope we can keep him alive or I will follow you into Hell!" he yelled. Rachel struggled to make any kind of noise, but Sam's grip was tight and she was starting to weaken considerably. The blood she had ingested was already wearing off. The legends were false. The blood didn't bring with it the immortality she had desired. Instead it had merely given her a false sense of hope. The only answer her brain could manage to conjure was that the blood itself reacted differently with every species. It had made Kitty stronger, but had failed to enhance a banshee's abilities to the same extent.

_I'm going to die. I'm going to die once and for all. By the hand of a vampire. Where did he get this sudden burst of energy? Rage. I am far too weak now. I'm dying. I can't save myself. Oh I hope to meet Kitty again in Hell._  Her thoughts were becoming more and more disoriented as she began to lose brain function from lack of oxygen.

Sam pulled his fist back, keeping a firm grip on the banshee with his other hand. When he slammed his fist forward, he aimed directly for the spot where Rory's blast had burned into her. His hand tore through flesh, through bone, and he felt her heart in his hand. It was beating, but barely. Not saying a word, Sam pulled the woman's organ out of her chest and held it in front of her face. With a look of utter disgust, he smashed it into her face, covering her with muscle and organ matter. She couldn't even scream in pain as he reached back in, grasped her spine, and yanked it right back out. It was then that he released her throat and dropped her to the ground. He snapped the spine in half and tossed it aside like a twig.

Faded eyes stared up at the ceiling, her face locked in a mask of terror. Rachel was dead.

Sam felt weak. He had no idea where the sudden surge of strength had come from—humans would say adrenaline, but vampires made no such chemical anymore. It must have come from the same inner strength Santana's barrage on Kitty had come from. Truth be told, he didn't care how he did it. He dropped back down to his boyfriend, taking his hand again.

Sebastian hovered over them, his face betraying his emotions. He felt useless for the first time in centuries. He had not been able to conquer Kitty and almost lost his progeny to her. His initial attack on Rachel had failed. By the time he had worked out a course of action in his head, Sam was already slaughtering the woman, and now all he could do was loom over the dying leprechaun, unable to hide his despair from the others.

"She's gone, Rory. She's gone. I killed her. I killed her, for you," the blonde told him. "You don't have to be afraid, stay with me, stay with all of us. Don't go," he whispered, his voice raspy. He brought his free hand to his mouth and tore open his wrist. "Come on, drink. It's not too late, just drink!"

"I can't…" Rory croaked. "I can't. It'll kill ye'." He closed his eyes, his energy leaving him. He knew in his heart he was going to die.

"I don't care if it kills me, you can't die! Drink!" Sam insisted. "Drink God dammit, drink!" His voice was barely a whisper by then, his wrist pressed against the boy's lips as Sam urged him to imbibe.

Sebastian exchanged a look of concern with Santana, who only nodded. Finally he knew how he could be of use. "Sam. You're too weak. He's right. If he drinks, it will kill you," he stated. "He needs more blood than you can give up right now."

"I don't care!" Sam shouted. "Drink me dammit, drink my blood already!" No matter how much he tried to get Rory to drink, the teen refused.

"Sam. I can help. He can have  _my_  blood," Sebastian said. Sam glared at him. "I know you don't like the idea. In fact, I know you hate it. However, I am at full strength, and can spare the nourishment that you cannot. Santana has silently agreed to see to my safety afterward."

Sam stared into the man's eyes for several seconds before looking back down at his boyfriend. They locked eyes, Rory pleading with him. "Rory, will you drink from him? Will you drink if it won't kill him?"

"I thought ye' told me not to…" the teen whispered.

"Never mind that now; this is a life or death situation! Drink from him and it can save you. He's offering, so take it!"

Rory managed a pained smile. "I will… I will drink," he managed. Sam sighed in relief, pulling back his wrist. Sebastian quickly replaced it with his own, a gash torn across his flesh. He pressed up against the teen's lips, and Rory opened his mouth, locking around the tender flesh. Sebastian felt the strange sensation as the boy began to suck.

Rory instantly noticed the difference in taste from Sam's blood. While Sam's tasted like heaven, Sebastian's had no taste at all. It may as well have been red water flowing.

Sebastian winced slightly, but insisted he was all right. Never in a thousand years did he picture himself risking his own life for a human.

Sam watched with concern, seeking any sign of healing taking over but saw nothing yet.

"Drink as much as you need," Sebastian offered. "I can handle it. Drink until you can't drink anymore, and then keep drinking." In a sentiment of affection, he used his other hand to gently run his fingers through Rory's hair as if petting a feline lapping from its water dish. "You're doing fine."

Santana had more concern over her maker's health, but she had to admit to herself that she even felt a tug at her heart over the boy. He annoyed her, but he was important to Sebastian, and that made him matter to her.

Sam continued to watch on, never letting go of Rory's hand. He looked up at Sebastian, a wordless appreciation communicated between them.

As Sebastian weakened, Santana moved over to hold onto him for support. He smiled at her, appreciative of her care. The sheriff closed his eyes, feeling his own life force draining away.

"You can't take anymore of this," Santana warned. "He has to stop or you'll die," she added.

"He will stop when he is ready. I trust that he will," Sebastian said softly. He smiled at her again, cradled in her arms. "And I trust you. I know that no matter how close to the true death I get, you will keep me safe."

The vampiress kept a stoic face but inside she was screaming at him to stop the madness. His body was going colder than normal, his skin paler than usual. He was giving up way too much blood.

Sebastian felt relief when Rory stopped suckling his wrist and let the limb drop to the floor. He licked his lips and sighed, Sebastian pulling his arm back. He watched intently, waiting for something to happen, just as did the rest of the group sans Kurt who was still unconscious.

The wound on Rory's back was tingling, the sensation much like when a limb 'falls asleep'. It started to itch, and then it felt hot and burning. It was slowly beginning to seal itself shut. First the muscles and blood vessels, then the flesh itself. It didn't look fully healthy. It still looked like an angry wound, but it was no longer bleeding, and no longer an open wound. Despite the large amount of blood ingested, the wound would still take time to heal fully. Even though he had come back from near death once almost instantly after ingesting Sam's blood, Rory's extreme exhaustion, both mentally and physically, was interfering with the speed of his healing.

However, Rory's breathing was finally beginning to improve. His eyes were still drooping like a very tired man, but his breaths were now deep and full rather than ragged and shallow.

Sebastian passed out in Santana's arms, the woman losing her stoic demeanor and allowing red streaks to pour down her face in concern for her maker.

"Rory? Rory, how do you feel?" Sam asked.

Rory didn't answer right away but instead looked up and grinned. "I feel better. I still feel like I got stabbed and tortured, but the pain is less. I feel like I'm not dying anymore."

Sam smiled, leaning down and kissing the top of the boy's head. "When you feel ready, we need to get out of here." He then looked at his sheriff and Santana. "Will he be okay?"

"Yeah, after a fashion. You should both feel lucky. He wouldn't make this sacrifice for just anyone," the woman replied. She glared at them both, her eyes filled with a mixture of emotion.

"I'm grateful. He gave up a lot to help me. When he wakes up, I want to make sure to tell him to his face," Rory said.

"Oh shit! Can you feel that?" Santana asked suddenly, shaken out of her irritation momentarily. Sure enough, the floor was shaking. No, the entire building was shaking. They hadn't noticed it before because of all the action going on, but now that things had slowed down, it was very prevalent.

"The castle. It's not stable," Mike observed. "The explosions, everything. They all compromised the structure of the building."

"We have to get out of here!" Santana shouted. "If this shit hole collapses on top of us this will all be a waste! I'll be fucked if I'm gonna meet the true death here!"

"I don't wanna die in here! Get us out of here now!" Mercedes screamed at the top of her lungs. "Somebody do something and do it fast before this place falls in!"

Kurt huffed, having finally regained conciousness. "Blaine, can't you do something? A barrier, something?" he begged. "Teleportation?"

Blaine shook his head. "Teleportation is beyond my expertise. If I even tried we could end up in pieces or worse. A barrier isn't going to hold against tons of rock and who knows what else."

"Then what good is all your magic and shit if you can't do anything!?" Kurt blurted out. He regretted his words immediately, but he didn't have time to apologize before Santana tore into him.

"I don't like you people but I'll be damned if you're gonna shit all over the  _human_ that helped save our asses. You've gotten on my last nerve since I met you and now you talk trash to your ally and your boyfriend?" She turned her attention to the young Wiccan. "Great choice you made there, buddy. Maybe you need to find you a real man."

"Stop it!" Rory yelled. "All of ye', stop it! This isn't helping!" He was still in a lot of pain, wishing very much for Ryder's pain relieving ability.

Rory was incredibly tired despite the blood. "We 'ave to work together."

"He's right. We're all in sad shape, but we have to work together to get out of here and get safe," Sam declared.

Blaine stepped up to Rory and pulled the boy's arm over his shoulder. "Come on, I'll help you," he offered, shooting Kurt a hurt glare. Kurt simply hung his head and joined Mercedes as she started to make her way out of the throne room and into the hall.

"Thank ye'," Rory replied with a pained grin. Sam quickly came to his aid as well, the pair helping the teen to stay on his still-wobbly feet.

Santana glared at Mike as he approached her. "I'll help carry him," he said simply. The woman didn't reply but instead knelt down next to Mike and on silent count of three, they hoisted the unconscious vampire onto their shoulders.

"Tina, you, Kurt, and Mercedes go on ahead. If there's anything in our way, take care of it," Sam ordered. Tina nodded and quickly joined her friends in the hall as the injured party ambled out of the throne room.

The urgency picked up as the roof began to crumble above them. Clouds of dust and smoke filled the air, making it difficult to see. Fortunately, vampires and shifters had enhanced sight. Within fifteen minutes they were back outside in the hedge maze.

Rory shifted his weight onto Sam as Blaine stepped up to knock down the walls of the maze for easier passage. "There. I guess my magic is good for  _something_. Let's get out of this hellhole," he said, shooting Kurt another harsh glare.

Upon leaving the hedge maze and arriving next to the gates, they stopped for a moment to watch as the castle cracked right down the center, the entire structure falling inward. Kitty had destroyed one last thing before she died, and this was something they were all happy to see go.

"What now?" Sam asked, nervously looking around. "It's almost dawn. The plane is destroyed. We don't even have a car."

"Cell phones. Hello?" Mercedes piped up. "It's the digital age. Never leave home without it," she said, pulling her phone from her pocket. The screen was scratched, but the rubber casing had kept it from breaking altogether. With Rory's assistance they were able to get hold of a trio of cabs to take them to a vampire-friendly hotel.

Sam went into the lobby and paid for the rooms, the entire group splitting up with their respective mates. He smiled as he heard Kurt apologizing profusely to Blaine in the next room. Of all of Rory's friends, Kurt was his least favorite and it had upset him that the boy had reacted so harshly to his partner.

Santana slept soundly next to Sebastian, draping her arm over his chest protectively. Mike, Tina, and Mercedes fell asleep almost immediately, the entire night catching up with them.

Back in Sam and Rory's room, the vampire sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at his boyfriend as he collapsed on top of the comforter. They had taken quick a quick shower, remaining silent as the muck washed down the drain. As soon as they were dry and clothed in pajamas, Rory had collapsed on the bed.

"I love you," Sam declared, smiling and caressing the teen's cheek. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."

Rory looked up at him with soft eyes. He had black circles under them from exhaustion, blood was stained all over him, and he had bruises and cuts that were desperately trying to heal themselves.  _He still is the most beautiful person I have ever seen, no matter how bad of shape he is in,"_ Sam thought.

"Ye' came for me. That's all that matters. Ye' came for me, and ye' took me back. It's o'er now." After several seconds of silence, he spoke again. "Right? It  _is_  over now, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes it's over," Sam assured him. "Rachel is dead. Kitty is dead. All of their army is dead. There's no one to hurt you anymore."

"But Ryder is dead, too." Rory shut his eyes, struggling to hold back tears. "Ryder. He's gone…" Ryder had risked his life to keep them safe. Rory refused to believe that anything but happiness was waiting for him in the afterlife. Damian had to be waiting for him. Self-sacrifice should cancel out a lot of other bad deeds in his life, or so he hoped and prayed.

Sam remained stoic. "What's the—"

"What's between me and Ryder, right?" Rory asked. Sam nodded nervously. "I promise ye', someday I'll explain e'erything. But right now, right now it's too much. I promise ye' though, I ne'er strayed from ye'. Not at all. He was me friend, that's all."

Sam smiled and leaned down to kiss the boy on the forehead. "I know. I don't doubt that one bit. I just wanted to know… what happened. But you can tell me later, when you're ready."

"Thank ye', Sam. I love ye'. Knowing ye' were coming for me, knowing ye' loved me too, that kept me going methinks."

"Shh… let's go on to sleep now. Enough talking about all this. We need rest, both of us."

He slid onto the bed properly and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. Within seconds they were both asleep, not waking for two days.

Once the entire group had time to recover, Sebastian contacted VITA to arrange their trip home. It was expensive, especially since he had to pay the deductible on the insurance for the plane that had been destroyed, but he had no qualms about shelling out the cash, even for the humans. Half a day later, they were all home.

-ooo-

_One week later…_

"Life seems pretty boring now, huh?" Tina joked as she counted her tips. Kurt and Mercedes glared at her, not appreciating her sense of humor. "Sheesh, just kidding! You have to admit though, after all that, it does seem kind of strange going back to everyday life, doesn't it?"

Kurt didn't answer, choosing to escape to the kitchen. Mercedes wiped down the bar for the second time, pretending not to hear the other woman. The last thing she wanted to do was recall anything they had just gone through. Especially taking the lives of other living beings.

Tina shrugged and joined Mike at the register. "They're taking it pretty hard. We all are. How are we ever going to come to terms with this? With taking lives?" she asked sullenly.

Taking a cue from Sam, Mike remained firm. "We simply move forward. We can't dwell on it, but what we can do is remind ourselves that it was self-defense. None of this was in cold blood. We had to help our friend and we were attacked. We did what we had to do."

The tall Asian man hugged his girlfriend tight, not letting go of her and she quietly wept into his chest. "I hope we can all believe that. I hope we can," she said softly between sobs.

-ooo-

Rory woke up in his bedroom at Sam's home. No, not Sam's home.  _Their_  home. He loved the expensive bedding, the incredibly soft pillows, even the smell of the room. Most of all, he loved being able to spend more time with Sam.

He propped himself up on his elbows, his back still aching where the knife had been driven in deep. Even though the incident had been over only a week ago, most of it was hazy. He was thankful for that. They were memories he didn't think he wanted to remember.

The teen reached over to the bedside table and turned on the lamp. The clock read six in the evening. Sam should be awake, or about to wake up. He pulled the blanket away from his feet and sat up on the side, closing his eyes a moment. The teen was having the occasional spell of dizziness if he got up too quickly.

He stepped down on the floor, shivering. The slick wooden floor was cold and he had no socks on his feet. He was only wearing his boxer shorts, so he padded over to the dresser and dug out a pair of pajama pants, a long-sleeve pajama top, and some socks.

No longer cold, he made his way down the hall toward the stairs, descending very slowly and holding on to the handrail with both hands. His head felt a little light, but closing his eyes for a couple of seconds seemed to make it pass.

"Sam?" he called out. There was no answer. He hadn't woken up yet. The vampire would be able to hear him speak from anywhere in the house. He took a moment to walk toward Sam's office, noticing that the room was still in disarray. It appeared as though a tornado had hit and the rescue crews hadn't come yet. Making his way to the living room, he saw a similar scene of destruction.

"You're awake," came Sam's voice from behind the teen. He didn't startle, nor did he pull away when the man wrapped his arms around him from behind. "You've been asleep so much since we left Ireland. I worry a bit. How do you feel?"

Rory smiled, pressing his palms against his boyfriend's hands. "Alright. Still weak, light headed. I ache, especially in me back."

"That's to be expected. It was a mortal wound. It's going to take time to heal properly, even with the large amount of vampire blood you ingested. It's not like when I healed you the very first time. I was at full strength then, and well, I honestly don't know why else it's different now. Why it's taking longer to heal you. Maybe it's from the blood you drank."

Rory turned around and gazed into Sam's eyes. "My memories 'ave been so mixed up since we got back. They're all in pieces and some is gone, and some fades in and out. But I remember the blood. It was Sebastian's. I nearly killed him," he said. He lowered his eyes, feeling ashamed at his greed. "Is he alright?"

Sam nodded. "Yes. Another memory lapse I'm guessing? I told you he was alright the first time you woke up, and a second time the other day. Santana is taking care of him. He's pretty much back to his old self. You drained him quite a bit, but he managed."

The teen half-smiled . "Good. I'm glad he's okay." He wrapped his arms around Sam and leaned his head against the man's chest, closing his eyes for a moment as he breathed in the scent of Sam's freshly washed clothing. "I'm sorry I drank him when ye' told me not to," he said softly.

The vampire sighed. "You didn't have a choice. It was either that, or die. I think you know which option I was voting for." He nuzzled his chin on Rory's shoulder. "You have a bond with him now, you know. He can sense your emotions now. You may even have… sexual desires for him," he added, his tone filled with sadness.

"No, I could ne'er do that. I could ne'er 'ave sex with him. He disgusts me with his personality."

Sam chuckled. "You wouldn't really have control over it. It's something we'll have to deal with when it occurs."

"What happened here, Sam? And in ye'r office?", Rory asked, eager to change the subject. He could feel in his mind that he had been told once before, but the memory he was grasping for just wasn't there.

"I explained it the day we got back. I reacted poorly to your kidnapping and in the process, scared everyone and made a big mess of the house. I think they thought I might hurt them."

"I don't think ye' could e'er hurt one o' ye'r friends, even by accident. It's not in ye'r nature. Ye' might get mad, but ye'd ne'er hurt them. Give ye'self some credit."

"You have a lot of faith in me, especially since vampires can be incredibly unpredictable," Sam noted.

Rory scoffed playfully. "Now ye'r just being cocky." Sam feigned feeling insulted. "By the way, I'm not cleaning this up," he added, pointing to the mess in the room.

"Yeah yeah, you said that twice now. I'll work on that later. Right now, I kinda wanna take you to bed with me," the elder teen admitted.

"Ye' mean sleep with me? Maybe watch some of the tele until I fall asleep. Again," the younger teen replied, knowing full well that was not what Sam was referring to.

"Uh, I kinda meant something else," Sam said. "I wanna take you to bed and make you feel real good. I think you earned it, and might even  _need_  it."

Rory gulped. After the experience with Ryder, sex was the last thing on his mind, and even though it was Sam, he wasn't ready yet. So he lied. "I don't think I'm up to it. Still feel weak and light headed. Can't we just cuddle and watch a movie until I fall asleep? I really need the rest. E'en after several days. Besides, I'd like to remember it. Let's see what happens with me memory problem."

Sam sighed, defeated, but then he smiled. "Sure. My libido can hold out another day I suppose. Let me carry you upstairs though. You seem a little woozy." Not waiting for argument, Sam lifted the boy into his arms and slowly carried him up the stairs. He chose not to utilize his vampire speed for fear it might make the boy feel ill at the moment. He laid the teen down on the bed, removed all but his boxer briefs, and got into the bed snuggling up next to him and pulling the thick blanket over the top of them.

Rory used the remote to turn on the TV and find a movie on one of the premium channels. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep in Sam's arms, the vampire unmoving until he had to return to his coffin for safety and sleep of his own. Before he drifted away, he prayed to God that Rory's memory would correct itself, that it would stop going in and out on him and return to normal. Whether it was some sort of post-traumatic stress syndrome, or an actual physical effect of Rory's powers, they would have to figure something out if it continued to go on much longer. His worries faded away as slumber claimed him.

-ooo-

Sebastian lay in his own coffin, not yet asleep. He could sense Rory, resting peacefully. Envisioning the teen lying on his bed, nude and touching himself was enough to drive Sebastian crazy. Now that he had the bond with Rory, his affections felt stronger, his arousal for the teen increasing, and his desire to win him over, magnified. Santana was furious. The sheriff was suddenly uninterested in having sex with her, but she understood the reason. That didn't mean she had to like it, however.

"I will have you eventually, Rory Flanagan. I'll make you mine, and you'll forget all about Samuel Evans. It's only a matter of time," Sebastian Smythe vowed to himself before finally letting himself doze off.

-ooo-

Blaine sat on the floor of his bedroom, the only light coming from scented candles around him. Despite Kurt's apologies, he still felt a little hurt and found himself taking more comfort in meditation. It helped clear his head, and if his mental acuity was tuned just right, he could even experience lucid dreams.

_A skeletal hand erupted from solid earth, grasping the dirt for purchase as a second hand revealed itself. In an eerie light, flesh began to materialize over the bones. The flesh looked like porcelain, the skin of a woman. A flash of solid white light and the image shifted. A shadow on the ground of a horse running, except the horse was being ridden by something, something either very short, or without a head. The shape was hard to discern but was definitely not completely human. The sound of someone, a female, chanting filled his ears; spells he was unfamiliar with were flowing from the ground where the hands had erupted._

The teen's eyes snapped open abruptly as whatever spell was being incanted was finished and his meditation was destroyed. His breath was taken away momentarily as his mind returned to conciousness. "Oh my goddess…" he said softly, his eyes wide.

 


End file.
